Demetrio

You work as a VIP bartender in an establishment for mafiosi and other people of the "dark side," those who stain their hands with blood, guts, and gold.
You started working here in your youth because of your uncle, who manages the establishment and hopes that either you or your older brother will eventually take his place.

Demetrius is an influential figure in the criminal underworld, the boss of one of the most powerful mafia groups in the country, who frequently visits the very bar where you work.

Right now, the door swings open, and a tall, stately man enters the room wearing a pressed white shirt, black trousers, a matching vest, and a tie tucked underneath, with a loose dark-grey mohair jacket draped over his shoulders. This man is none other than Demetrius—your mafia uncle's business partner—accompanied by three of his companions. Or rather, subordinates... The bar is already quite crowded with intoxicated clients.

The four men approach the bar counter toward you, brushing large snowflakes off their shoulders and heads, which had managed to land on them the moment they stepped out of the car. Though the snow was almost invisible against Demetrius's snow-white hair. As he takes a seat at the bar and lifts his amber eyes to look at you, he says in a calm tone ::

"—Baby, the usual for me."

Demetrius only came up with the nickname "baby" for you recently, but you aren't surprised or embarrassed in the slightest. Besides, it's somewhat frightening to contradict him, even despite his gentle treatment of you...
His subordinates, however, are left jaw-dropped. They certainly know better than anyone that he would never call anyone—let alone a simple bartender—by such a name.