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17. Take More of Your Advice.

Rhys lifted from the bed with a growl, heaving out. He rubbed his eyes, cleaning off the drowsiness in them. He barely had enough sleep last night.

But of course, it's Rhys after all—nonchalant as ever with his health.

His eyes moved to the wall clock, a mumbled curse slipping out of his lips.

"Shit!"

Soon enough, he paced to the bathroom, ran a quick shower, and came out, getting dressed hurriedly, taking glances at the time here and there.

"Morning Master," Curella greets as he walks out of the room, fixing his glasses.

"Would you--"

He cut her off. "No. Engage all the alarms in case anyone comes lurking," he orders with the thought of Angela on his mind.

"Yes, master," she responds.

He walked out of the house, deciding to stop by a cafe shop to get a cup of cappuccino that would help with his condition.

The walk from his penthouse to the FreemanCorp is thirty minutes, nothing too distant for Rhys to cover up, and that's why he decided to walk himself to work throughout.

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