|Draven's POV|
I adjust the collar of my dress shirt, scrutinizing my reflection in the massive gilded mirror. The suite is grand—probably too grand for my taste, with its sprawling windows overlooking the endless Aegean and ornate furnishings that practically scream old money. But it's the Young Estate, after all. The heart of Casmira's empire. I wouldn't expect anything less.
The tie slips through my fingers as I pull it taut, the fabric crisp and smooth under my touch. I'm halfway through fastening the cufflinks when the door swings open, and Gryphon saunters in, a bottle of champagne in one hand and a crystal flute in the other.
"Thought you could use a drink," he drawls, plopping himself into the nearest armchair without a care in the world.
"Shouldn't you be checking security?"
