The Depths of Hypocrisy
As the noise echoed, those in the hall prepared to investigate, only to find Tristan standing nearby, quietly observing.
The warm yellow light of the corridor bathed him, enhancing his exquisite features and clean facial contours with a golden hue. His suit jacket hung over his arm, and he leisurely pulled out a chair before sitting down, lazily crossing his legs.
His indifferent and aloof eyes were now brimming with an indulgent smile, captivating anyone who looked as if they wished to drown in the tenderness and indulgence radiating from his gaze.
Anyone who could freely enter and exit the “Pasta Bar” was inevitably a person of power and influence in San Heith.
The staff dared not approach rashly, fearing to involve themselves in the situation. Instead, they discreetly informed the manager.