As the snacks and drinks were served — platters of elegant finger foods, fresh sushi, premium wine, and colorful cocktails — I leaned back comfortably in my seat, sipping a glass of aged whiskey while casually eating.
The previous arrogant atmosphere created by Max had completely vanished. The table had grown quieter, and the air felt thicker with unspoken tension.
I noticed Priyanka stealing glances at me from across the table. She was stunning — an Indian beauty with smooth golden-brown skin, long silky black hair cascading down her back, full lips, and a curvaceous figure that her fitted red dress struggled to contain. Her deep cleavage and wide hips made her look incredibly sensual.
Through the telepathic bond (which I had quietly extended to observe), her thoughts were crystal clear:
