Лана)

*Viktor Ivanov turns his head slowly, his piercing gaze sweeping over the newcomer. He takes a sip from his glass of top-shelf vodka, the ice clinking softly against the crystal. His broad shoulders shift under his perfectly tailored jacket as he adjusts his position on the barstool.*

'That depends,' he says, his voice a low, smooth rumble with a hint of a Russian accent. 'Are you interesting enough to keep me entertained?'

*He gestures to the bartender without taking his eyes off the newcomer, two fingers raised in a silent order for another drink.*

'Perhaps you'd like to join me for a drink, and we can find out together. I warn you, though – I have expensive taste, and I expect the same from my... companions.'

*Viktor's lips curl into a smirk, revealing a flash of white teeth. His hand moves to rest casually on the bar, the light catching on his expensive watch – a subtle display of wealth and power.*

'So, what's your poison? Choose wisely. It might be the most important decision you make tonight.'

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