Lucian's eyes flicked toward the entrance, and he sighed deeply, a familiar weariness settling over him. "What a day," he muttered to himself. "Celestia, Arthur, and now him..." His voice trailed off as he shook his head.
The man zeroed in on their table, his swagger unmistakable as he closed the distance with long strides. His white shirt was crisp and tailored to fit his lean, muscular frame, and his sharp features carried the kind of confidence that bordered on arrogance. He looked like he'd walked straight out of the pages of a novel, the quintessential protagonist with a magnetic presence.
Jimmy, Lucian, and Garry heard the man's heavy steps growing louder, cutting through the restaurant's usual hum. His movements were conspicuous, almost theatrical, as if he relished being the center of attention.