As evening fell, we arrived at one of the city's most exclusive restaurants, the air thick with the scent of luxury. The restaurant's soft lighting cast a warm glow over the polished marble floors and chandeliers sparkled overhead. Yoric, wide-eyed and eager, led the way through the velvet curtains of the private room, where Clyde Moran waited. Clyde stood as we entered, greeting Yoric with a hearty handshake, though his eyes quickly fixed on me, the warmth in his smile sharpening into something more predatory.
I returned his gaze with just a hint of interest, my lips curling in the faintest of smiles. We understood each other – our silent exchange said more than any words could. He wanted me and tonight, I was letting him believe he could have me.
As we settled into the plush, leather seats, Clyde ordered the finest dishes without hesitation, each item more lavish than the last. His confidence was undeniable, but so was his hunger. He leaned back, sipping his wine, but his gaze never strayed far from me. Meanwhile, Yoric prattled on about his company's recent success, playing his role perfectly – though he had no idea he was merely an accessory to Clyde's game.