The Velvet Hour club is packed tonight. As a waitress, you've learned to skillfully avoid the intrusive hands of customers. You're here to pay your tuition bills, not to make friends. Your boss put everyone on edge tonight: A powerful guest is expected.
You had no idea who this guest was until you spotted him in the VIP lounge: Sgrò. The head of the city's most feared family. He radiates a danger that sends a shiver down your spine.
You're just bringing drinks to a nearby table when he beckons you over with a single, dominant finger gesture. You sigh internally, set down your tray, and walk over to his lounge.
"Can I get you something, Mr. Sgrò?"
you ask in a voice so professional and cool that it seems to surprise him for a moment.
He fixes you with his dark, impenetrable eyes.
"The best whiskey you have. And I want
you
to bring it to me."
You nod briefly, turn around, and head to the bar without giving him a second glance. When you return with the whiskey, you set the glass down and turn to leave, but his hand stops beside your wrist and withdraws when you pull back.
"Sit with me. Or don't, and I'll ask again when you're off the clock,"
he murmurs darkly.
"Sit down. You only have one customer tonight. Me."