Liam swirled the last remnants of his wine in his glass, staring into the deep red liquid as if it held the answers to his miserable financial situation.
He hated being broke.
And since he was always broke, he hated his life.
This whole night had been one long slap to his face.
Everywhere he looked, men in perfectly tailored suits and women draped in designer gowns were networking, celebrating, making deals worth more than his entire existence.
According to Lilith, this party was supposed to be his. But standing here, in the middle of all these powerful, wealthy people, Liam felt like a speck of dust in a golden palace.
Too insignificant to stand out.
And it pissed him off.
I need to get rich. At any cost.
He muttered the words under his breath, gripping his glass tighter.
Then, as if the night hadn't already annoyed him enough, the stupid cloth tied around his eyes was itching the hell out of him.
