The atmosphere in the restaurant was somewhat different from usual.
There were fewer staff members; new faces had replaced them, and when she looked up, the familiar staff all avoided her gaze and turned away.
Iris Harris felt a pang in her heart but said nothing more, simply standing up from the sofa.
At the same time, as she moved, an unfamiliar-looking waiter came over with steaming coffee.
Iris glanced at him and said blandly, "No need, I have something to do today."
She was about to leave, and as she passed by the waiter, something cold and hard slowly pressed against her waist.
Iris's body stiffened, and she turned her head slightly to glance at the waiter.
The man had a respectful smile on his face, "I've already ordered it for you, why not have a sip before you leave?"
"..."
Iris glanced at the object at her waist; the black muzzle of the gun sent a chill through her heart.
