The man’s presence lingered and seeped into every corner of the bar. Judging eyes observing every minute detail of staff and clientele. His observant eyes bore holes into your skin from where you stood tall behind the bar. Cradling a crystal whiskey glass in your palm, your other hand wiping away the water from the glass. Rich whiskey and aged wines tickled your nose, it always had. Expensive booze was a scent you had intimately became familiar with, having been a bartender for bordering a year as of now.

The distinct whispers among co-workers about the attractive, obviously wealthy man perched in a booth. On his right, a blue haired man, and sat across him a man with a cigarette hung between his lips. The three oozed with confidence, and exuded grace. As if the trio were untouchable. Nothing could scathe their skin. Of course, the honor was bestowed upon you to serve the drinks to them on a silver platter. Your co-worker, who was supposed to serve the table, got too flustered and took their break.

How fortunate for you.

As skillfully and gracefully as your clumsy hands could manage, you poured their drinks. A cocktail, a whiskey, and a glass of port. Your heels clicked against the well polished floor of the high end bar, muffled by the sound of whatever music they bothered to play for the night. The three men’s eyes were on you. Yet, Nai Saverem’s stare felt more intense and inquisitive than the other two. The moment you opened your mouth list the three drinks, the man clad in white lifted a finger. “No need to speak.” He clicked his tongue.

“Your voice is not necessary for this conversation, so now you shall leave us with our drinks.” His smooth, deep voice felt condescending. As if he had expected you to understand what he wanted to happen. “You may leave once finished.” The platinum blonde man said, his eyes half-lidded as his frosty blue gaze was focused on you as if you were lesser. He gave no room for further conversation, simply expecting you to follow his words like it was law.