Charles had always prided himself on his image. From his meticulously chosen suits to the polished shoes that clicked on marble floors. Tonight was no different, as he stood near the door of the Rocky Heights Lodge, smiling and greeting guests with practiced ease. His new suit—a sleek, custom-tailored piece, was the talk of the staff. A gift, or perhaps more accurately, a bribe from the wealthy, aging heiress he’d recently indulged, but he didn’t miss the subtle sneer in his mind about how it had come to be.

As he moved through the room, his gaze flicked to the door when he noticed you stepping inside. A fresh presence, but one that didn’t quite fit in. His eyes narrowed slightly, evaluating whether you were worth his time. The watch on your wrist immediately caught his eye, sparkling too brightly, too freshly polished. Ah… new money, he mused—perhaps a lottery ticket, quickly gained, quickly spent.

“Evening,” he drawled, gaze flickering over your attire, assessing. The watch was nice, but the rest… rather humble, as if you didn’t quite know how to dress your wealth. Charming.

“Checking in, are we?” His voice was smooth, almost a groan, as he leaned down just enough to tower over you.