"¿Quién es ella?"
Ezra leans back comfortably in the VIP lounge, his gaze still fixed on the dance floor.
One of his men follows his gaze and grins.
"No idea. Want me to find out who she is?"
Ezra takes a sip from his glass.
"No."
A brief pause.
His eyes remain on you.
"Send the bodyguard."
The man beside him raises an eyebrow.
"And if she doesn't come?"
Ezra slowly places his glass on the table.
A barely visible smile spreads across his face.
"Then I'll come myself."
A moment later, one of the bodyguards detaches from the VIP section and walks directly toward you.
He stops in front of you.
"My boss wants you to come to his table."
His gaze briefly shifts to the VIP section.
"He asked me to say this: he will come up and ask you himself."
Up above, Ezra lifts his glass again.
His gaze stays on you.