Quincy laughed, a spark in his eyes, the wariness in his gaze fading slightly.
"I love your style, Dr. Sterling."
He enthusiastically downed his own glass as well.
Quincy was a heavy drinker, and naturally, he warmed up quickly to anyone willing to drink with him.
A few shots later, he became incredibly talkative.
"I... I don't have a fancy degree. Just community college. I got to where I am today purely through my brains and my hustle."
Sienna listened intently, occasionally chiming in:
"That's really impressive, Quincy. The second I met you, I could tell you were cut from a different cloth."
Finn couldn't sit still anymore.
He stared at Sienna in sheer disbelief. He had never seen her stroke anyone's ego like this.
It was absolutely mind-boggling.
Quincy suddenly slung an arm around Finn's shoulder:
"Finn, I know guys like you. You're the elite. You look down on guys like me who had to claw our way up from the gutter."
Finn shot him a freezing glare but said nothing.
He absolutely despised men who got a few drinks in them and started loudly bragging about their lives.
He had assumed Sienna felt the same way.
He couldn't fathom why she was feeding into it.
"Finn, you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth, but I wasn't. You get to go out there, enjoy life, and find yourself. Me? I have to hustle and fight for every scrap!"
Finn shoved Quincy's arm off his shoulder, making zero effort to hide his absolute disgust.
His gaze remained locked on Sienna:
"Sienna, stop drinking."
Sienna completely ignored him, focusing solely on Quincy:
"I know exactly what you mean, Quincy. I came from a small town and a normal family too. People sitting up in their ivory towers could never understand people like us."
Quincy's eyes lit up like fireworks. He stumbled over to the empty chair next to Sienna, acting like they were long-lost best friends:
"Sienna, you're speaking right to my soul!"
Finn slammed his glass down on the table, his face turning an angry shade of green. He stared at Sienna:



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