While I sat back with a drink made by the Leonamon, the sweet burn sliding down my throat, I overheard some gossip that grabbed my attention.
"I heard the owner of the Leonamon is coming here, along with his co-owner. Isn't that something?" one of the women said, her voice dripping with intrigue. She was dressed to impress, her outfit almost glowing under the lights, detailed with flowery embroidery that shimmered every time she moved.
"I know, right?" another chimed in, her excitement barely contained. "It's one thing for the co-owner to show up, but the real owner? He's kept his identity a secret for so long. Hearing he's coming out of the shadows is huge. Right, Kayla?"
"Yeah, whatever. He's probably just some wrinkled old man," Kayla muttered, glancing up from her phone. Her clothes were even fancier, like she was trying to one-up the others. She sat with her legs crossed, but her mood made it obvious she didn't care to be part of the conversation.
