Gerard had grown increasingly impatient with each passing minute. His fingers drummed a staccato rhythm against the armrest of the luxurious lounge chair, the heavy atmosphere of the VIP room feeling stifling. His steely black eyes, accustomed to assessing situations and individuals with cold precision, pierced through the dense shroud of cigarette smoke that hung like a ghostly veil.
In that dimly lit enclave of the exclusive club, North and William exchanged anxious glances. They knew all too well the tempestuous nature of their employer, and the prospect of incurring his wrath for tardiness was a prospect neither relished.
"Look at him," William muttered, barely audible above the sultry jazz music that filled the room. He inclined his head subtly toward Gerard, who had abruptly risen
