9 The Note

That night, Freiherr walked towards Calantha and snatched a dose of drink served to an individual by the bartender. He approached the man standing beside her after he had searched and seen her. "I believe you're in my seat," he stated, a sly smile playing on his lips. He slipped a wad of dollar notes into his hand, the crisp bills catching the man’s attention. "Do us both a favor and move, would you?" He commanded. To Freiherr, money could solve anything, including delays, and it could also be a means of making up for mistakes. That was why he worked so hard to make more money. The man glanced at the money, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Well, ain't you generous, Richie," he chuckled, obliging Freiherr’s request and leaving the seat. Unfazed by the commotion, Calantha continued sipping her drink, her eyes fixed ahead. He took the opportunity to slide into the vacant seat, the atmosphere between them crackling with a newfound tension. Calantha was annoy