Midday rolled around, and we were gathered around the hotel's breakfast table, each of us looking like we'd been through a blender. Heads pounding, stomachs churning—honestly, coffee barely cut through the haze. Then Ibrahim arrived, strolling in like he hadn't had a single drink the night before, and went straight into business mode, briefing Armand on the accounts and the transfer of funds to Utah. I sat back, nursing my coffee, listening to him lay out every detail as if he were reading a grocery list.
Armand just nodded, looking satisfied, and said, "Good work, Ibrahim. I also sent over some extra funds to you—for security and… well, to build a bigger place, if that suits you."
Ibrahim raised an eyebrow, looking surprised but pleased. "You're too good to me, Armand," he said with a grin, then added with a wink, "I'll make sure my schedule's clear for the wedding between you and Eli, you know. Wouldn't miss it."
