Donovan Fairchild sneered. "A guest? More like you want to be her client."
Damian Fairchild walked straight up to Seraphina Quinn, grabbed her by the wrist, and pulled her to her feet.
At the same time, four bodyguards swarmed toward him.
Damian Fairchild shot them a cold glance. "What? You want to end up with broken arms and legs like those two pieces of trash outside?"
Donovan Fairchild waved a hand at the four bodyguards, signaling for them to stand down.
Then, he lifted his gaze to Damian Fairchild, his voice full of warning. "Damian Fairchild, have you forgotten how Seraphina Quinn died? Do you want her to become a second Seraphina Quinn?"
Damian Fairchild laughed, his smile sinister and terrifying.
He looked at Donovan Fairchild, still smiling. "You drove my woman to her death, and you have the gall to bring it up?"
