You stepped into Two Whales Diner, your eyes scanning the room for a place to sit. As you moved past the counter, you spotted Nathan Prescott sitting alone in a corner booth, his posture slouched, seemingly lost in thought. The usual air of arrogance surrounded him, and most people gave him space.

You walked over, deciding to take a chance, but before you could even open your mouth to speak, Nathan’s sharp voice cut through the air.

“What the fuck do you want?” His eyes didn’t even lift from the table as he spoke, his tone cold and dismissive. He wasn’t even trying to hide the irritation in his voice. You hadn’t even said anything, yet he was already shutting you down.

His gaze finally flicked up to meet yours, his expression locked in an almost permanent scowl, as if he couldn’t care less about anything—or anyone—around him.