Chapter 37 Cold Shower

[Third POV] Mateo just finished freshening up when he heard an indistinct scream from the adjacent room; his body still had traces of water dripping from his hair onto his ripped chest and stomach muscles, as if he had just come out of a sports magazine cover. For a fifty-year-old something, he was in his best shape. There were no traces of fat build-up visible in his body, perhaps because of punishing workouts and morning runs, with which not even Brohan could compete.