Over coffee, Nate furiously scrolled on his cell phone. "I remember reading something about Angel of Lies, particularly about Evren Westberg."
Keira was sitting opposite of him. Their table was side by side with the big front window. If passerby looked at the café, they'd appeared like a couple lovers enjoying the chill night with cozy live jazz performance by the corner.
The very definition of romantic, so to say.
"This, this. Read this one."
She took his phone in hand, the thin communication device almost felt fragile in her grip, but Nate had proven that it was pretty indestructible. He had thrown it to her storeroom wall one morning because he saw a cockroach there.
The phone didn't even have a scratch, let alone break in half. Must be hella expensive. She didn't even remember seeing any ads on that phone either, even though her internet browser was full of ads.
A perk of being wealthy – obviously.
