Harold's POV
Jefferson had every reason to worry. His club drew the city's elite—wealthy power players and influential figures. If rumors spread about drugs being found on the premises, especially tied to his sister, it would spell complete ruin.
With this many witnesses around, keeping things under wraps seemed impossible.
Unfortunately, the damage was already done.
By the time he arrived, chaos had erupted. Guests from other private rooms had heard the commotion and crowded over to witness the spectacle.
Bodies pressed together in the hallway, and without Lucas and Alan working to contain the situation, things would have spiraled completely out of control.
"Mr. Calvin, Mr. Alan, I can't thank you enough," Jefferson said once he saw Gaia's hand wrapped in bandages and the white residue cleaned from her face. Gratitude filled his voice as he looked at both men.
