CHAPTER NINETY THREE

**TEN YEARS LATER

Andrew sat in his living room, his gaze focused on his laptop.

He threw himself into work, signing every work, going over projects and proposals, killing sprees here and there, making sure that every gang knew their place.

That was his way of coping—with everything.

“Could you please not do that?" He growled furiously, turning to Tristan.

“How else am I supposed to type? The keyboard is bound to make noise.” Tristan frowned and went on with his work.

Andrew groaned and slammed his laptop shut, he was in a bad mood again.

“What are you even doing here?"

"You called me to come over.” Tristan looked at him unbelievably. Ten years had passed and he was still affected.

"Don't you think it's time to move on?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow, questioning his statement. "Move on from what?”

"It's been ten years since Manny's death. I think she'll be happy you found love again.”

"Who said I haven't moved on?”

Tristan tutted and shook his head, his friend