At the East District Restaurant, dazzling lights illuminated the entire room.

Hendrix sat across from Xenia at a square table. A waiter opened a bottle of Bordeaux red wine and poured it into a decanter. The reddish-brown liquid reflected the light, casting a beam onto Hendrix's slender profile. His chiseled features displayed a hint of contentment as his narrowed eyes fell on the piano not far away.

"How strange, why is no one playing the piano tonight?" Xenia, ...