As Mark stood grounded before me, Sandra suddenly fell silent, and the men respectfully took quick steps back.

Then, before he said anything, he signaled for the bartender to come over. The lanky boy who seemed to be covering his shift, with wide eyes, didn't hesitate to run to Mark.

"Good day, sir," he bent his head in greeting, his hand firmly by his side. He seemed to be doing his best not to look my way. I didn't blame him—he had just watched me smash a bottle on a man's head.

"Go to whoever your boss is and get every single person, apart from us, to get out of...