I Forgot I Ever Loved You (Zoe and Hayden) novel Chapter 178

Meanwhile, Sienna sat in the passenger seat of Hayden's car, stealing frequent, triumphant glances at him.

She was in a spectacular mood.

Hayden would always choose her side.

When they arrived at the Easton headquarters, Hayden unlocked the doors.

Sienna waited for him to get out, assuming they were going in together.

"Head up to the office by yourself."

Hayden dropped her off and drove away.

Sienna froze for a moment. Assuming he had an emergency meeting, she brushed it off and walked into the building.

Hayden called a few friends and headed to a private club to drink.

A suffocating irritability clawed at his chest, and he needed an outlet.

In the VIP booth, Quentin Muir, Ethan Montgomery, and another friend were already waiting.

Hayden sat down and started downing liquor in oppressive silence, leaving everyone except Quentin completely baffled.

"Did the boss get his heart broken?"

In all the years they had known him, they had never seen Hayden like this.

He had thrown his suit jacket carelessly onto the sofa, the top buttons of his black shirt ripped open, revealing a splash of spilled alcohol on his chest.

When they walked in, he was practically inhaling the whiskey.

Quentin took a slow sip of his drink and dropped a bombshell.

"Looks more like his wife ran off with another man."

Hayden shot him a murderous glare, but Quentin didn't even flinch.

Judging by Hayden's reaction, he had hit the bullseye.

Who in this city was brave—and charming—enough to steal the obsessively devoted Zoe Lynd away from Hayden Thorne?

Incredible.

"Quentin, if you have a death wish, just say the word."

Hayden's eyes were bloodshot.

He looked like a predator ready to tear someone's throat out.

Quentin ignored him, retreating to the other end of the sofa to sip his drink.

His eyes gleamed with blatant amusement.

"Where's Asher? Call him and tell him to get his ass over here."

Right on cue, the heavy doors of the booth swung open.

Tables were overturned, fruit platters smashed, and bottles shattered.

Ethan was panicking, stammering incoherently.

"Has Asher lost his mind? What are they doing?"

Quentin remained completely unbothered, moving to a safe corner to watch the carnage like it was a spectator sport.

Twenty minutes later, both men collapsed onto the sofas, panting heavily, battered and bruised, neither emerging as the clear victor.

"Asher, are you out of your damn mind?"

Hayden spat, wiping blood from his split lip. Asher looked equally trashed.

He reached into his coat pocket in stony silence. He pulled out several folded pieces of paper and slammed them onto the coffee table.

"Hayden, keep your wife away from Nadia. Whatever sick, twisted fetishes you two have, keep them behind closed doors. Don't drag other people into your degenerate games."

He wiped the blood from his mouth, turned on his heel, and stormed out.

Hayden stared coldly at the papers on the table, not moving a muscle.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Ethan picked them up.

A few seconds later, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

"Holy shit. Hayden, is this you? Man, you're ripped. And your wife has got some serious legs—"