Chapter 111 At The Clubhouse

• That night, the clubhouse roared with life. Don had spared no expense: whiskey poured like water, cigars smoked thick in the air, and women laughed as they moved between tables. The place pulsed with music, the kind that made even the coldest men relax their shoulders and grin.
• Horace sat at the head table, a king among loyal captains, his booming laugh rolling louder than the music. Don matched his energy, clapping Horace on the back, both men toasting to Hardy’s downfall.
• Bryan, Logan, Kirk, and Smith blended into the revelry. Logan had already coaxed a blonde onto his lap, Kirk was holding court with two women, and Smith leaned against the bar, glass in hand, quietly surveying but with a rare smile tugging his lips. Bryan wasn’t far behind them, never too loose, but letting himself enjoy the moment.