Val had let himself into the penthouse and while he sensed the witch wasn’t there it would only be a matter of time before he waltzed in. Instead, he helped himself to the finest import of bourbon the witch had stocked. He sipped straight from the bottle and didn't care to trouble himself with a tumbler. Resting on the Italian leather sofa he spread out and propped his feet on the table. Pavlo surrounded himself with exquisite things, and while Val was at times ignorant of such things it didn’t stop him from benefiting from it. 

Deciding perhaps he should make a call he rested the bottle on the table as he pulled out the cell. No sooner then he made it to the contact list did he sense Pavlo, tossing the cell to land on the plush couch. Waiting for the witch to enter the living space he grabbed the bottle again. The sound of footsteps echoed on fine marble as he came closer. Lifting his gaze the moment the man walked through the arch. “Welcome home, friend. We need to talk.”