Truth is served.

The private lounge was silent, as Alex sank into his seat, his thoughts went on rampage.

The phone was still etched to his ear even though Nicole had dropped the call about 20 minutes ago.

Staring at the chandelier above, he only wished he could hang high above his life troubles and debacle.

His gaze moved to the waitress, a young beautiful lady, who was now sweeping and packing the broken glass that broke as a result of him shouting out loud.

"I'm very sorry for that." His voice laced with concern and remorse as the lady continued doing her work.

Staring at him in bewilderment, she replied, "It's actually nothing." Her voice was mellifluous, reminding him of Sandra Douglas, his fiancée.

Just then his thoughts flickered, 'How on earth did Nicole even see me entering this private lounge?...Did she place a tracking button on me?' His thoughts went on rampage as he searched his pocket and touched his body, all in a bid to see if Nicole had in any way placed a tracking button on him.

Stan
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