The first thing that genuinely caught Phei's attention was not the stalker accusation itself.
No, it was the woman casually claiming the entire boutique had been closed off for her, as though that statement made complete sense on its own and required no further elaboration whatsoever.
As though buildings simply emptied themselves at her convenience and the universe considered this a reasonable allocation of resources.
Rich people did that sometimes, true, but usually there was at least paperwork, a bored assistant, and someone in a black suit pretending this was all perfectly normal instead of society quietly losing another moral battle.
Phei stood there with his wine glass still resting lazily between his fingers while the night wind swept across the rooftop, and for one brief, disoriented second, he almost wondered whether owner had somehow double-booked an entire luxury building for two completely different people by mistake.
