EDWARD’S POV
The clubhouse is louder than it’s been in a while.
Music pounds through the speakers hard enough that I can feel the bass through the wall behind me, two of the tables have been dragged out of the way to make more room and everyone has a bottle in their hand.
Rio and Johnny are yelling over each other at the bar, Charlotte is dancing badly enough to embarrass herself and even Micro looks like he’s managed to forget everything going on with Eliot for a few minutes.
I take another drink from my beer and lean my shoulder against the wall, watching the whole thing.
In a few hours, word will start spreading that King Greaves is gone.
Dead.
We don’t usually celebrate somebody losing their life. But Greaves?
I think we’re allowed this one.
There are women who will wake up t
