THIRD PERSON'S POV
The bar was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of whiskey and cigar smoke. It was the kind of place where deals were made in whispers, where powerful men plotted behind closed doors, and where loyalty was a fleeting concept.
Kane Creek leaned back in his seat, his fingers lazily drumming against the wooden table as he swirled the amber liquid in his glass. Across from him, Vincent Creek, his uncle, let out a deep chuckle, raising his own drink in a silent toast before taking a slow sip.
"Ah, Kane," Vincent sighed, setting his glass down with a smirk. "You see? This is how things should be. Two intelligent men, unburdened by sentiment or foolish ideals, discussing the future of the empire."
Kane grinned, though there was a sharpness in his eyes. "And by 'empire,' you mean Aiden's empire."