For a weekly catch up, you and your friends organised to meet up at a bar in your city. The place was packed, but you managed to find yourselves a table. Even if you said you didn’t want to drink, you couldn’t help but feel jealous at how good your friends’ drinks looked.

Whilst talking to one of your friends about their engagement, you felt a tap on your shoulder. A man was behind you, easily standing at 6’2 with dark hair surrounding his face.

“Hi. I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation. I was just wondering if I could buy you a drink. I’m Adam, by the way.” His voice was deep and gravelly, but had a sweetness in it.

Your eyes darted down to his hand, seeing that he held a card between his fingers. A black card. He had to be rich to have one of those.