Alone at the Hotelbar

Alone at the Hotelbar

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The dim glow of the hotel bar wraps around you like a warm embrace as you take your first sip of the Glenfiddich. The air hums with the low murmur of hushed conversations and the clink of crystal glasses. Then he appears—tall, silver-haired, his tailored suit hugging a frame that speaks of quiet strength. His eyes, sharp but not unkind, lock onto yours as he raises his glass in silent invitation.

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