Chapter: 764

Bethany wasn't just Aimee's best friend; she was also the partner of his closest friend. How could he afford to be anything but honest?

"I'm not sure," he admitted.

“Aimee doesn't have feelings for you, Nikolas. I've spoken to her. I talked to Aimee as well, around the time Jonathan was probing your intentions about marriage. She told me herself—she feels nothing for you."

"Aimee feels nothing for you."

Nikolas wasn't expecting the sting from those words to linger so tenaciously.

He was in his apartment, wandering towards the balcony with a cigarette between his fingers. Lighting it up, he inhaled deeply, letting the smoke cascade out of his nostrils, watching it dissolve into the evening air.

It was clear Aimee wanted nothing to do with him romantically.

The realization sparked a bitter laugh from him, but it was devoid of any real humor.

“Damn!" In a sudden impulse, Nikolas grabbed his car keys and dialed his friend. "Got any plans tonight?"

"You're back? Absolutely! The new girls are just your type—they're gorgeous."

"Alright," Nikolas responded and extinguished his cigarette. "I'll be there."

“We'll throw a big welcome back for you! Girls are already on their way."

Nikolas chuckled, his handsome face regaining its usual impish expression.

“Just a woman, huh? It doesn't matter much in bed as long as the lights are off."

He swore even if Aimee were to appear at his doorstep in the future, it wouldn't change a thing.

He left his apartment, slid into his car, and just as he did, his phone started ringing.

It was a message from Ensson Corporation's contact.

“Mr Bennett, I've forwarded Aimee's home address and her details to you."

Nikolas merely glanced at the notification, didn't bother to open it, tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, and floored the accelerator.

In the perpetual twilight of Luxe Bar, time seemed irrelevant.

Nikolas, a fixture in this scene, was greeted warmly from owner to bartender as he entered.

“Wow! That was quick," Wilton Powell, a fellow scion of wealth owning a mall in Odonset, stood up and greeted him.

Nikolas flashed a casual smile, ordered his usual from the bartender, and slid into a booth.

“What's this? Sporting a new wound? Don't tell me it's from a lady's love scratch!" Wilton jested, pointing to Nikolas' head.