Chapter 68 - Friends could be like hyenas

Emile curiously looked at the yellowish-green mark on Alexandre's cheekbone, the burst lip and eyebrow. In the dim light of the club he had not immediately noticed these traces. But if he looked more closely he noticed the clear traces of a fight on Alexandre's body.

He had been unsure at first, did not want to believe it. But the bruises were evidence of a fight. Had Alexandre really been in a fight? What for?

Lost in thought, he pushed his glasses up the straight bridge of his nose and stared over at Alexandre, studying his friend's face. Curiosity was reflected in Emile's ebony eyes. He pushed the scantily clad Blondie away from him, against whom he was leaning the whole time. He walked through the room to the small bar on the right side of the room and reached over the counter to get a bottle.

For a second, burning amusement flared around his mouth while Emile poured himself a glass of cognac. He carried the glasses carelessly in his hands between three fingers and strolled over to Alexandre. "You look like you need a drink." He was handing his grumpy friend a glass. "So?" He asked quietly?

Alexandre took a sip. The alcohol burned down his throat. His friends could be like hyenas sometimes, when they wanted information.

He didn't blame them. Only those who were ice-cold could really survive in a businessman's world. If you were softhearted, you were not meant to live at the top. Alexandre had learned this rule early on and so had his friends. Each and every one of them needed a hardened heart in order not to die in a world of predators. These men were born with a golden spoon in their mouth, but keeping that golden spoon took a lot of endurance and effort. No one could afford to make mistakes. Especially not a soft heart. Only someone who was clever, cunning and calculating could keep his place at the top and look down on the world from above.

All his friends ran billion-dollar businesses. They were born predators, even in private life. The only exception was Phillipe. He was an excellent businessman, but Alexander knew... At home, he was under Loulou's slippers.

" So, what?" In scornful feigned amazement he looked at Emile.

Emile's black eyebrows wrinkled. His girl tried to rub herself against his body again, pressing her round bells against Emile's arm while her eyes would flirt with Alexandre. Alexandre was laughing on the inside. His friends' taste was getting worse and worse. These women would spread their legs for anyone. He almost shook his head in disgust.

"What did the Drouet Family do to you, to make you so ruthless." Emile leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.

"Don't mention them." Ha, he remembered that little bastard once again. No one laid a hand on his property and got away with it scot-free. That son of a bitch! His anger turned to a dull rage. The memory that he had touched her was still vivid. But beneath his rage was something else, cunningly hiding. But he knew himself well. Recognizing the malice behind it. The madness that was now lurking within him. Dangerously slowly consuming him.