The Wrong Table, the Right Man

Up close, they looked exactly like what they were—polished, expensive, used to being obeyed. The younger one’s lip curled slightly, already annoyed at being interrupted by someone who didn’t belong in their world.

“This doesn’t concern you,” he said.

Marcus nodded once. “Didn’t think it did.”

He took a step closer anyway.

“But it sounds like she said she’d move.”