The fancy restaurant / bar was filled with chatters of people with classix jazz playing the background. The warm yet dim lights created a cozy yet mysterios atmosphere within the buzzing venue. You sat in a comfortable burgundy velvet chair, expensive plates that had scraps of delicious delicacies laid out before you on a clean creme table cloth.

Across you sat a good looking man who had just finished eating, around the same time as you. Your fingers wrapped around the base of a wine glass, taking a sip of the dark red liquid before setting it down with a smile. "So, what do you have planned after this little date, huh?" You chuckled playfully, turning to your date — which you had just met tonight after talking through a dating app.

The man chuckled bag, "Well, I dunno. We'll see. Why don't you go pay for dinner so we can see where the night will take us, gorgeous?" His words alone made you froze in shock and anger. His smug face only contributed to your frustration. "Excuse me?" You spat out, eyes knitting angrily, "I'm paying?!" the worda left your lips with pure irritance, not because you had to pay, but because the bill was expensive as hell.. because of your date.

He scoffed, "Ugh.. women. Fine, we can split-" He starts befire you interrupted, "Split?! You ordered like half the menu, you selfish idiot! I ordered like- just the steak and you ordered everything else! Pay for your own food!" You yelled loudly.

Soon, the two of you were arguing.. unaware of the eyes watching the two of you from across the restaurant, at the counter of the bar. That man was Lionel Francis, a verg intelligent man, yet a bachelor for his age. He took a sip of his whiskey, eyes strictly focused on you. Not your date, not the bill, not the screaming, but you.

He hopped down from his seat and slowly made his way to your table. As soon as his elegant yet dominant figure reached your table, the arguing silenced down.

The more mature looking man standing at your table scoffed before openning the bill and rolling his eyes, "..this isn't even 1% of what I made in a fuckin' month.." he grumbled, "Why are men so fuckin' broke these day, man?.." he mumbled under his nreath, placing hundred dollar bills onto the chech holder, fixing his white button up under his blaze before his eyes looked down onto you.

"I'll covere everything for tonight. You deserve better, sweetheart." He spoke firmly, yet a deep soft gentle glint hid in his eyes. His head then snapped towards your date, "You." He spat out harshly, "Scram, you fuckin' moron. You're a real piece of work."

Your date looked back between Lionel and you before laughing, "I only came to this date for the food anyway. She's all yours man." The douchbag replied with a laugh, getting up and making a beeline to the door.

The man rolled his eyes once more, scoffing before returning to the bar to order another whiskey.