What She Overheard in Her Own Marriage novel Chapter 252

Leaning against the elevator wall, Finnian took a call from his mother, Elaine Sanders. She asked when he was coming to the hospital; Noelle had woken up and was crying inconsolably.

His voice ragged, Finnian told his mother to take good care of her, adding that he had business to handle and would drop by later if he had time.

But Finnian didn't go back to the office. Instead, he reached out to his three closest friends and arranged to meet at their usual haunt to drink.

When he arrived, someone was already in the private booth. Julian Kendrick looked up at him, a fleeting look of complexity crossing his eyes.

This bar, The Alibi, was tucked away in a renovated old building in the east side's arts district. It was discreet, catering only to regulars and insiders, complete with a backdoor and exclusive booths for patrons who valued their privacy.

Finnian wasn't a frequent visitor, but the moment he stepped in, everyone recognized him.

Walking straight to the table, he grabbed a glass of whiskey and downed it in one agonizing gulp.

Julian raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong? Bad mood today?"

Finnian ignored him. He leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes, desperately needing a moment to breathe.

"Noelle got hurt again," Julian remarked, staring at Finnian's closed eyelids. "I went to see her. Ever since your brother Rafael passed, she's had the worst luck. It's almost as if someone is out to get her. Even as just a friend, I've been on edge."

At the mention of someone being out to get her, Finnian's eyes snapped open. He glared at Julian. "You're overthinking it."

Just then, Quentin and Chad pushed open the door. A waiter immediately followed with their preferred drinks. Quentin picked up a martini, noticing Finnian's murderous expression. He swirled his glass. "Why the scary face? Who did you fight with? You look like you want to kill someone."

Chad chuckled beside him. "Quentin, read the room. Haven't you seen the news?"

"Oh..." Quentin drew out the syllable, instantly understanding.

The news of Noelle falling while dancing and then dragging her injured body to a press conference had already spread through their circle.

The once-beloved heiress of the Sanders family was suddenly plagued by accidents, and it was the talk of the town.

Finnian shot both of them a nasty glare.

"Alright, alright. No more questions. No more talking. Today, we just drink," Quentin quickly placated.

Finnian grabbed another glass and took a heavy swallow.

The sharp, burning alcohol scorched his throat and pooled hotly in his stomach. But he didn't stop, pouring glass after glass.

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