Chapter 67: A Toast to Treachery

The living room of Wilson’s house was a study in luxury. Glass mirrors reflected every item, from the polished floors to the leather furniture. The room carried the scent of cigar smoke. Wilson Rodriguez leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking slightly under his weight. His fingers drummed idly against the armrest as he eyed the bottle of Château Margaux sitting on the table before him. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he thought about the reason for tonight’s celebration. The job had been done perfectly, without a hitch—just as he had expected. He reached for the bottle, his fingers grazing the cool glass before firmly wrapping his hand around it. He paused, savoring the moment before pouring the dark, red liquid into two glasses. The wine swirled in the glass as he shook it a little and took it to his nose. Ezra entered the room. His dark hair was combed back, and he wore a crisp white shirt. The corners of his mouth curved into a grin as he locked eyes with his