The confrontation

Christopher sat in the private chamber of the club, his eyes glued to the screen of his laptop.

The room was dimly lit, with a single lamp casting a soft glow over the space, and dark velvet curtains pulled shut. The whisky glass on the table beside the laptop remained untouched.

Christopher was dressed in a grey suit, his arms folded tightly across his chest as he waited for Eddie to arrive. His face was sullen, his jaw was clenched, and the tension in his body was palpable. He was clearly agitated, and his eyes darted back and forth across the screen as he searched for something.

The silence in the room was broken when Eddie entered.

"Good evening, bro." He greeted him politely as he walked up to him stiffly. He had no idea why Christopher had called him to a club.