The woman in the white Cheongsam let out a soft, derisive snort that cut through the tension like a finely honed blade. She leaned into Leo Shue, her fingers trailing possessively over the fabric of his tunic, tracing the muscles of his chest. She looked at Mitch Lee not with fear or respect, but with the kind of pity one might reserve for a particularly slow-witted child.
"Do you have any idea how the world works, little boy?" she purred, her voice dripping with honeyed venom. " The line of people waiting to share a meal with Master Shue stretches from this table all the way to the next city block. Bankers, politicians, warlords... they beg for five minutes of his time."
She tilted her head, her earrings catching the light. "Just because you sat at a table with Master Shue once, you thi
