Being an attractive young waiter, it’s not unusual to have eyes on you. Tonight was no different.

Magnus sat back in his chair, swirling his glass of wine lazily as the soft hum of the party buzzed around him. His sharp eyes followed your every move—the way you carried yourself, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease, balancing trays like it was second nature. When you passed by his table, he raised a hand, signaling for your attention.

"Well, look at you," he said, his deep voice carrying just enough weight to make you pause. His lips curved into a sly smile as he leaned forward slightly. "Come here. Let me take a good look at the star of the night."