Tom Polo sat back in his chair, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders. His fingers tapped rhythmically on the desk as his mind raced, replaying the earlier encounter with Lorian. He finally broke the silence, voice low but firm. "Gregor, there's something I didn't tell you about Lorian."
Gregor looked up sharply, his expression instantly alert. "What is it?"
Tom's eyes narrowed, darkening with a grim acceptance. "He's a vampire. Just like me."
Gregor gasped, the words hanging in the air between them like a sudden thunderclap. The shock wasn't just in the revelation itself, but in the implications. Now they were going up against not just a smart opponent, but a physically powerful one as well.
Tom nodded slowly, meeting Gregor's gaze with steady determination. "That's why I have to get stronger. If I'm going to stand a chance against him… I need to level up, fast."
Gregor nodded, understanding where he was going with this.
Tom pushed himself up and moved to his desktop computer. The glow of the monitor illuminated the sharp lines of his face as he logged in. "First things first," Tom muttered, pulling up his Tinder profile. "I need to start swiping."
Tom scrolled through the matches with practiced ease, his profile tailored to impress. Rich, powerful, and enigmatic, that was the image he projected. Pictures of exotic vacations, black-tie events, and tailored suits made the women's hearts flutter. His lifestyle was the kind many envied, and his profile reflected that perfectly.
He swiped right on two particularly striking women, Then, with swift fingers, he sent each a direct message.
Muttering to himself, he added, "No time to waste. I'll have to figure out a way to have the two of them together." He drummed his fingers together as he contemplated a strategy
As they replied and the conversations began, Tom moved effortlessly between chats, learning their interests, strengths, and weaknesses.
After some back and forth, Tom invited each to a dinner at an upscale hotel restaurant. Both accepted, thrilled by the prospect of an elegant evening with such a charismatic man.
Tom's smirk widened as he imagined them arriving separately, expecting to be the only guest. "This'll be interesting," he thought, then powered off his phone. His smile faded into a hard, serious expression as he turned his gaze toward the wall. The grim reality of his situation settled back over him like a cold shroud.
****
The scene shifts to Tom Polo standing outside a hotel. He was dressed simply but with unmistakable style and presence.
He wore a fitted black top that hugged his lean frame, the fabric matte and smooth against his skin. Around his neck hung a single, expensive-looking gold chain, catching the light just enough to hint at luxury without being flashy. It was a subtle statement of power.
His black jeans were clean and modern, tailored perfectly to his legs, and his feet were clad in a pair of iconic Rick Owens boots, dark, rugged, and unmistakably high fashion.
On one wrist, a finely crafted gold bracelet rested, its intricate design a testament to understated elegance. It was the kind of accessory that whispers status and wealth to those who know how to read it.
Tom's overall look was simple yet commanding. a man who knew exactly how to balance refinement and danger.
He strolled casually into the upscale hotel lobby alongside Gregor. His attire was his usual black-on-black: a fitted black top that outlined his lean but muscular torso and a pair of sleek black pants that tapered just right over his boots. His gait was relaxed yet confident, the kind of easy swagger that drew a few discreet glances from passersby. Gregor walked slightly ahead, as if leading the way, but Tom wasn't bothered, he liked letting Gregor set the pace in public. They were a striking pair, and they both knew it.
The hotel's marble floors gleamed under the warm lighting, and the low murmur of elegant conversations floated through the air. Tom's eyes scanned the space as they made their way through the lobby and into the restaurant. Even here, in a place where wealth and status were the norm, Tom sensed that his presence stirred subtle ripples, small, calculating glances and whispered assessments from nearby diners.
As they reached the table Tom had reserved, Tom slid into the plush chair, settling in smoothly. Gregor, however, didn't sit beside him. Instead, he paused, casting a sidelong glance toward the tables behind Tom's before slipping quietly into a seat there.
Tom raised a brow, turning his head to look over his shoulder in mild confusion. "What's that about?" he asked.
Gregor's eyes gleamed with a hint of dry amusement. "I'm not supposed to sit with you. You're going to be on a date."
Tom smirked, leaning back with a casual shrug. "Come on, Gregor. It's two girls. Not exactly a 'date' if I'm inviting them both."
Gregor shook his head, lips twitching as he sighed. "You do realize that's not how dates work, right?"
Tom's grin widened mischievously. "You're missing the point. If two girls show up, they're not going to think of it as a traditional date. It's more like… a social experiment."
Gregor looked skeptical. "Okay, but what's your exact plan? When the two girls find out you called both of them…"
"Relax." Tom flashed him a confident smile. "Charm is my superpower."
Gregor groaned softly and rolled his eyes, clearly disapproving. "You're a smartass, you know that?"
Before Tom could respond, the restaurant's entrance doors swung open, and a hush seemed to ripple through the room. A stunning blonde stepped inside, and the attention of nearly everyone in the room snapped toward her instantly.