Liam sat sprawled out, a glass of whiskey in his hand and a smirk plastered across his face as he watched the crowd with a sense of detached amusement. He looked up as we approached, his expression shifting to one of surprise and mild irritation.
"Well, well, look who decided to pay me a visit," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Michael didn't waste time on pleasantries, his gaze steely as he took a seat across from his brother. "We need to talk. And this isn't a social call."
Liam raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Oh, I'm hurt. And here I thought my dear brother had finally decided to bury the hatchet."
"Cut the crap, Liam," Michael snapped, his patience wearing thin. "We both know you don't care about family ties. This is business, plain and simple."
