Victor slammed the door shut to his private hotel room, the heavy wood shuddering behind him as it locked.
His breathing was uneven, and his face was still unnaturally red. His hands shook as he grabbed a cigarette stick and went to the balcony.
"What the hell does he know…" he muttered to himself, pacing.
"What the hell does that bastard know?"
Zeno's words rang in his ears like a curse.
"I see that you like foreign women."
How?
How did he know?
Someone like him shouldn't have known about it. No—he couldn't have! He had kept it under control, only known by a few he trusted and some who wouldn't dare defy him!
The filming had come to a halt, and despite saying it would continue this afternoon, there was a slim chance that would happen.
However, that was the least of Victor's worries.
He couldn't think about filming right now.
His thoughts circled only one thing.
