POV: Florence
I didn't even see him send anyone. One second I was nursing what remained of my drink, the next a man in a black suit materialized at my elbow, hands folded in front of him like he'd perfected this routine years ago. The earpiece curling around his ear confirmed my suspicion.
"Mr. Lennox would like you to join him upstairs," he announced, his voice flat and professional, as though he were reciting the day's specials at a restaurant.
I glanced up at the balcony. He stood there still, one hand draped loosely around a glass now, watching the entire exchange unfold as if he'd already written the ending in his head. The confidence in his posture bordered on arrogance, and something in my chest tightened at the presumption.
"And if I say no?" I asked, mostly curious to see how
