Brodie drank again after he left the detention center. When he was drunk, he asked Steve to bring him back to the presidential suite that Luna had stayed.
He bought out the presidential suite.
It belonged to Luna and him forever.
Brodie felt so dizzy that he couldn't even find his way. Steve held his arm and helped him into the room.
Brodie whispered, "Be quiet. She's probably already asleep."
Steve's eyes went red.
What was the use of Brodie's affection now? She was already gone. The ashes were on his bedside table.
However, Steve did not dare state the truth, nor did he want to.
Brodie seemed a little frustrated, as if he remembered that in the early days of his career, every time he had come home drunk from business dinners, Luna was anxious and distressed. She would nag him for smelling of alcohol. But then she would cook some sober soup for him.
Brodie murmured softly, "She will be unhappy to see me wasted. Steve, help me make a bowl of sober soup. Hurry up before she sees me like this. It'll upset her."
Steve couldn't stand it any longer and said, "Mr. Melton, she was gone."
Brodie paused.
And then suddenly he curled up. It was as if he had just realized or as if he still didn't want to believe it. He stiffened for a long time before he suddenly wailed.
He whispered, "Go home. This place belongs to her and me."
"Yes sir."
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