Chapter 6 The Morning After

Chapter 6: The Morning After (Nolan's POV)

Nolan woke up to a dull pounding in his skull.

His eyes cracked open, squinting against the weak morning light filtering through the massive windows. The penthouse was quiet, but his mind wasn't.

He shifted on the couch, his body protesting the awkward position he had passed out in. His shirt was half-open, wrinkled from sleep. The whiskey bottle sat on the glass coffee table, almost empty, next to the glass he hadn't bothered to take to the sink.

The headache was manageable. The lingering thoughts weren't.

He pushed himself up, groaning as his muscles ached from the night before. His hand raked through his hair as he tried to force his mind into something resembling clarity. But it was useless-his brain was still stuck in yesterday.

The fight. The drive. The burn of alcohol.

And then... that feeling.

His jaw tightened.

Someone had been there.

Nolan wasn't the paranoid type. He knew when he was being watched. It hadn't just been a passing glance or a stray presence in the hall. Whoever it was had been listening.

The weight of the realization settled uncomfortably in his chest.

He exhaled sharply, shoving himself off the couch and heading to the kitchen. The cold floor was a contrast to his heated skin, but he barely noticed. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, twisting the cap off with more force than necessary before downing half of it in one go.

His phone was still where he had left it-off and forgotten.

He should turn it on. There were probably a dozen messages from his parents, reminders of last night's disaster.

Instead, he tossed it onto the counter.

He didn't care to hear their voices, didn't care to see their disappointment spelled out in texts.

His gaze drifted toward the skyline, the city stretching endlessly before him. It should have made him feel powerful, untouchable. Instead, it just felt... hollow.

Maybe he was just tired.

Maybe he was overthinking.

Either way, he didn't like it.

Nolan let out a slow breath before turning toward his room.

A shower. A fresh start. Something to clear his head.

But as he walked away, one thought lingered, refusing to leave him alone.

Who the hell had been there last night?

And more importantly...

What had they heard?

This version builds up more of Nolan's unease, adding stronger atmosphere and internal conflict while still keeping the pacing smooth.

What do you think? Want to tweak anything before we move on?