Seraphine had barely made it halfway home when Voren called so they made a smooth detour toward a quiet upscale coffee shop tucked into a corner of the business district where privacy came at a premium and conversations were rarely overheard.
By the time they arrived, the evening crowd had thinned into scattered silhouettes behind warm amber lighting, the scent of roasted beans hanging thick in the air like something grounding and deceptively comforting, which was ironic considering nothing about this meeting would be comforting for anyone involved.
This time, the man who usually walked into rooms carrying that unmistakable air of superiority, the one who never bent and never compromised unless it directly benefited him, was the one stepping into a situation that forced him to lower his guard, or at least that was how it looked from the outside, though Voren was not the kind of man who humbled easily.
