The bar at Badrutt's Palace Hotel.

In one corner of the bar, soft jazz played and the dim lighting set the mood.

Alexander von Rosenberg was taking his time over a glass of long-aged whisky.

He was twenty-nine. His father was Austria's Marquis of Rosenberg, and as the eldest son he was next in line to head the house.

The Rosenbergs had carried their name down since the days of the Habsburgs. With vast tracts of land, forest and vineyards across Austria, Switzerland and northern Italy, they were one of Europe's great old-money families.

But Alexander was not a man who lived on his family's name alone.

Young as he was, he already ran Rosenberg Partners as its chief.

He shuttled between London and Zurich running private equity and alternative investments, and he had already made his name stick in European finance.

He stood a tall 190 centimeters, his deep gold hair swept neatly back. An immaculate charcoal suit set off his calm gray-blue eyes.

Unusually for a man his age, he rarely let a feeling show on his face.

Anyone could see it: he was every inch the heir to an old noble house.

"Mr. Alexander."

"Lukas. What is it?"

His attendant had come over and was bowing his head.

"I'm told Director Johanna von Eisenberg went up to the Korean's suite a few minutes ago."

Alexander's hand stopped dead. The whisky in his glass swayed slowly.

"Johanna?"

"Yes."

"Alone?"

"I'm told she took wine with her."

Alexander's brows drew together, just barely. Johanna did not give men her time easily. For her to go to a man herself was all but unthinkable.

And carrying the wine herself, no less? He had known her for years, and she had never once done that for him.

"Who is this Korean in the suite?"

"We haven't found out yet."

"……" Alexander raised the glass to his lips. But somehow it didn't smell the same as it had a moment ago. All at once a little heat rose in him, as if the air in the room had warmed.

"A Korean? Wow!"