A Walking Brand.

Hugo sank into the plush leather seat beside Sanchez, his cousin and, currently, his lifeline in this strange situation.

The restaurant, Javan, was one of the fanciest places in the city, and everything screamed luxury.

From the golden chandeliers that sparkled like stars to the smooth jazz music drifting softly through the air, it felt like a scene out of a movie.

Hugo glanced down at the crystal clear glass of water in front of him, wondering if it had been filtered through some magical fountain because even the water looked expensive.

Thankfully, he wasn't going to be paying, right?

But none of that mattered now. What mattered were the two girls sitting across the table.

Hugo had been too eager to look directly at them before, but now that he was seated, he finally allowed himself a proper glance.

And immediately regretted it.

Both girls were stunning in a way that made his brain stutter like an old computer.