regain her father’s hotel...whether anyone believed she could accomplish it or not.
* * *
Any minute now, Griffin figured as he lay in the darkness on his hotel suite’s bed, he would start to feel better.
Any minute now, the crushing weight on his chest would ease. The urge to grip a whiskey bottle would lessen. The compulsion to draw the curtains would disappear and the need to forget everything and everyone would vanish. Any minute now, a sliver of hopefulness would nudge its way into his hardened heart and carry him toward the next day and the next conquest, the way it always had in the past. The way it had to do today.
Under most circumstances, exercising his authority made Griffin feel better. That had been true for years. After his forced takeover of The Lorndorff Hotel yesterday, however, he felt...worse, if anything. He didn’t understand it. Flexing his influence and power and wealth had always improved his outlook.
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