Charles POV
I bent over the edge of the ledge, a bottle of whiskey in hand and a cigarette in another. Smoking wasn't my thing, but to pull this off, I had to look as miserable as possible. The cuts from the explosion made everything blend out well and for a second there I smiled. I ended up having a use for the bashing after all.
There was a commotion at the rooftop entrance and I immediately knew my father was there. I raised the bottle of whiskey to my lips and took another deep drag. The door opened and my father strode in, with his bodyguards on his trail. With a snap of his fingers, his hoodlums came into the terrace to look around and check for suspicious clues. After a thorough scan of the area, they signalled a no danger sign to him. Then, and only then did he begin to stride towards me.
The bastard had trust issues. Wonder where I got it from.
