Turning Of The Tide

Chapter 145

In the Lithern Club, as the music blared, the bar’s dim lights transformed into a mesmerizing display of colors, casting an enchanting glow on the faces of the attractive crowd. The dance floor exuded an irresistible air of mystery and allure.

With the rhythm of the music, the atmosphere on the dance floor reached its crescendo. The revelers gyrated and swayed, their movements infused with an ecstatic energy that intoxicated them.

Meanwhile, in a secluded and soundproofed card room upstairs, an oasis of tranquility amidst the cacophony below, three out of the four occupants leisurely puffed on their cigarettes. At the same time, one donned a mask, lending an air of paradox.

Hackett had been having a remarkable streak of luck tonight. A mountain of chips towered before him as he sported a wicked grin. “Mr. Wilson, your luck seems to have deserted you tonight. I almost feel guilty for winning so effortlessly.”

The man continued to ignore him, his mind wandering during the card game, inevitably leading to Hackett snatching victory. Thoughts of Natalie and her cold indifference plagued him, playing on a loop in his mind like an unrelenting slideshow. He yearned to press the pause button, but his chest tightened with frustration.

Despite finding Frank’s constant stream of messages utterly disdainful, he secretly engaged in the same behavior. Day after day, he persisted in sending messages and delivering meals, desperate to make his presence felt. However, that woman showed absolutely no inclination to acknowledge him. His letters vanished into thin air as if they were dropped in the ocean’s deepest depths, generating no waves of response. It was evident that he needed to adopt a different approach which was a bold confrontation.

Unbeknownst to Hackett, Trevon was engrossed in contemplating how to win back Natalie. Ignoring him only fueled Hackett’s determination. Today, he was in a good mood, and having a loving daughter seemed to bring him tremendous luck. He had never won such substantial money from Mr. Wilson before.

With a cigarette delicately held between his fingers, Frank glanced at the visibly troubled expression on Trevon’s face. “Missing Natalie, huh?”

Trevon fixed Frank with a skeptical gaze. “Do you suddenly possess the power of mind–reading, Frank?”

As for Natalie, Hackett suppressed his inner desires, opting to keep his secrets to himself.

Just as their stomachs inconveniently growled, rumbling incessantly, a sudden string of flatulence followed suit. The other three individuals simultaneously turned their gaze toward Hackett, their disgust evident on their faces, without bothering to

conceal it

Hackett had eaten a mishmash of food that day, and due to their proximity, practically anyone who took a breath could catch a whiff of an aromatic scent.

Unable to bear the odor any longer, Frank held his breath and stood up. The stench was simply unbearable, nearly making him feel nauseated. “What the hell have you been eating?” he exclaimed, feeling as if the foul fragrance permeated his very

mouth.

Trevon extended his slender fingers to cover his mouth and nose, rising from his feet with a furrowed brow. Holding his breath, he swiftly opened a window, leaning closer to inhale the fresh air, ignoring Hackett.

Jim, donning a mask, fared relatively better than the other two who were directly assaulted by the fragrance.

buttocks, and mustered a sheepish

seemed inevitable. He hurriedly went to the restroom with one hand still covering his

had lost all interest in the card game. Trevon sternly commanded

order, Jim approached the door and swung it wide open. A chilly gust of wind swept in at an angle, striking Trevon directly. In an unfortunate twist of fate, Hackett’s final emission met Trevon head–on, causing his complexion to darken with an intense scowl. Holding his breath,

out, the room had already emptied, devoid of anyone

exactly where they had gone.

leave, his stomach protested again, growling incessantly. It seemed another

issues with the commercial project, Trevon and Frank paid no heed to the repetitive back–and–forth sounds. They smoked their cigarettes, discussing matters

skeptical, Jim asked, “Mr. Wilson, should I

you planning to deliver toilet paper? Just stay

1/3

12:02

Chapter 145

staying in there, let him be.” Trevon wondered if Mr. Blackwell’s luck with money was indeed that good. He wanted

with Mr. Wilson, Jim reluctantly retook his seat, silently sympathizing with

that it was Hackett calling. A wider grin spread across his face.

pulled out a cigarette, a smirk forming on his lips. “Tell the manager to bring anti–diarrheal medicine to Hackett

sending him to

approximately an hour, Hackett leaned against the wall as he entered, his legs

unfazed, his expression calm and distant. “Should I

a suppressed laugh,

was undoubtedly drained due to the effects of the chili peppers. He slumped onto the nearby couch. Frank wrinkled his nose in distaste. “Take a seat on a chair. Don’t turn my couch into a stench–filled mess and disrupt my

had no desire to move. He was too exhausted, having made countless trips to the restroom at least twenty times. “Damn it, I

resist his biting tongue. “Who knows if

all his strength to flung a pillow toward Frank, but his agile

this predicament.

that woman, Sherri. She practically forced me to devour a massive bowl of chili

room knew that Hackett despised spicy food and typically avoided it. Their curiosity was piqued as they wondered what could drive someone who steered clear of spice to consume such a large bowl of chili peppers. Were his efforts an

to become blood brothers with Miss Landor? With chili peppers as your

testament?”

a string of profanities. “Damn it, she’s just out to mess

with a hint of skepticism in his eyes, asked, “So you’re willingly allowing her to mess with you? Go back and entertain