Across the city, in a dimly lit upscale bar, the atmosphere grew tense as Gabriel's drunken voice cut through the low hum of music and conversation.
"I said fill my glass," he barked, slapping his palm hard against the counter, causing a few patrons nearby to glance over. His eyes were bloodshot, his face flushed, and his words slurred. Despite clearly having had more than enough, he wasn't finished.
The bartender, calm but visibly irritated, stood his ground. "Sir, you've had enough. It's late. You should call it a night."
Gabriel's glare sharpened. "Who the hell are you to tell me when to leave?" he growled. "Do you even know who I am? I could buy this whole damn bar if I wanted to. You are messing with the wrong man."
