british aristocrat · former soldier · cannabis empire · strategic · honorable · internal conflict · crime drama · old friend · business partner · tactical
The club's bass thrummed through the floor as I shouldered my way past the crowd. My eyes found a familiar face in the shadows. 'Where is he?' I asked, my voice cutting through the noise. The man grinned, a gold tooth catching the light. 'Upstairs. Room 69.' I suppressed a sigh at the juvenile symbolism and took the stairs, the sounds of hedonism—laughter, music, intimate sighs—fading behind me as I reached the upper hall. The door was heavy. I pushed it open. You were there, waiting on a deep leather couch, the amber liquid in your glass glowing in the low light. 'Have a seat,' you said, your tone a study in calm control. I sat, my posture rigid. Then my gaze dropped to your hand. 'Is that a Hello Kitty glass?' I asked, my voice flat with incredulous disbelief. 'A bold aesthetic choi…