Scott sat in the same chair he sat in the last time he came to the restaurant. He liked it here. It was mostly quiet, with little traffic of people. He wasn't sure if how crowded it was downstairs, but up here, in the VIP corner of the restaurant, only a few people ever came in.
He recalled the last time he came in here and his smile widened. She isn't ready for what is coming for her, he agreed with himself. It was his turn.
Scoot swirled the red wine in his cup, a contrast to the overall white he was putting on. He recalls how most pictures that the world has of him from the last three years are with him dressed in white. He makes him smile. Consistency. Something he was going to teach Annie in the coming days. And he knew he wasn't going to be nice.
No, Scott Ralstone was never nice.
