The Carlyle Hotel has private meeting rooms designed for exactly this kind of negotiation. Neutral ground, expensive enough to signal serious business, discreet enough that no one pays attention to who’s meeting with whom.
I arrive fifteen minutes early and take a seat at the head of the conference table.
The room is elegant. Dark wood, leather chairs, windows overlooking the city. My lawyers are setting up documents at the far end, and Declan is by the door reviewing something on his phone.
“They’re here,” he says at exactly two p.m. “Coming up now.”
“Good. You can leave.”
“You sure?”
“This is a business meeting. I don’t need security.”
Declan doesn’t look convinced, but he leaves anyway.
I’m alone when the door opens.
Nadia Vance enters first. Blonde hair pulled back in a neat bun, sharp blue suit that fits like it was made for her. Julian’s wife moves like someone used to being the smartest person in the room. She’s carrying a leather portfolio, and when her eyes meet mine, it’s pleasant but guarded.
Then Aurelia walks in behind her. And freezes.
Our eyes meet across the room, and I watch all the color drain from her face.
“Ms. Vance,” I say, standing. “Thank you for coming.”
Nadia looks between us, and I can see her registering the tension. The way Aurelia has stopped moving. The way I’m watching her sister-in-law like a predator that’s just cornered its prey.
“Mr. Rourke,” Nadia says carefully. “This is unexpected.”
“Is it? The proposal came through proper channels. I assumed your people would have done their due diligence.”
“They did. But the name on the proposal was different.”
“Shell companies. Standard practice for investments of this size.”
Aurelia still hasn’t moved. She’s standing just inside the door, hands clenched around her own portfolio, looking like she’s deciding whether to run.
“Please, sit,” I say, gesturing to the chairs across from me.
Nadia moves first, taking a seat and setting her portfolio on the table. Aurelia follows slowly, sitting as far from me as possible while still being at the same table.
“Shall we begin?” I ask.
The meeting proceeds professionally. I present the proposal. Real estate development in lower Manhattan, a partnership between Rourke and Vance interests, with a profit-sharing arrangement that benefits both families. It’s legitimate business, which is what Julian wants in order to move the Vances toward.
Nadia asks questions that show she’s clearly involved in this side of the family operations, understands the financials, and knows how to negotiate.
Aurelia says almost nothing.
“This seems very generous,” Nadia says after I’ve finished the presentation. “What’s your stake in this beyond the financial return?”
“I’m diversifying my investments. Moving into legitimate operations. Same as you.”
“And this has nothing to do with my sister-in-law?”
Aurelia’s head snaps up, and she looks at Nadia with something close to panic.
“I don’t know what you mean,” I say evenly.
