"The time is now," I interrupt. "The Morozovs are expanding. The other families are watching to see if you'll act or hesitate. Every day you wait makes us look weaker."
Her eyes narrow. "Careful, Adrian."
"I'm not being insubordinate. I'm being strategic. You taught me that." I hold her gaze. "The Commission needs to see strength. Decisiveness. Not deliberation."
She's quiet for a long moment, studying me. I can see her calculating, weighing, deciding.
"You'll lead when I say you're ready. Not before." I wince. "Tonight, I need you to attend the Marino Foundation Gala at The Palazzo." She turns back to me, perfectly composed. "You're the heir to the Nero family. People need to see you somewhere other than Page Six."
"Do they?" I ask, sarcasm lacing my voice. "Don't they love the image of the billionaire bad boy? It helps keep things hidden."
Bianca doesn't even blink. "You are a grown man now. Thetime for that nonsense is over." Her eyes are sharp. "People need to take you seriously, Adrian. No more whoring and fighting. Violence is easy. Any thug can pull a trigger. Leading a family like ours requires more than that. It requires finesse. Restraint. The ability to shake hands with people you'd rather kill and make them believe you're their friend."
She's not wrong about that either. I've been doing it for years.
"What time?"
"Eight o'clock. Leo will accompany you." She sits back down, already dismissing me. "And Adrian? Try not to kill anyone tonight. It's a charity event."
I leave without responding.
Leo is waiting in the hallway, I’m surprised to see him considering I gave him an order, but I suspect Biance overrode me. "I’ve been ordered to escort you.” He doesn’t sound happy about it.
I snort.
"She's stalling." I adjust my cufflinks. "The Morozovs are getting bold, and she thinks holding on tighter is the answer."
"And you think letting go is?"
"I think showing strength is." I head toward the exit. "Let's get this over with. I need to get back to the real problems.”
The Palazzo Hotel is exactly the kind of place I hate. All marble and gold leaf and crystal chandeliers, packed with Manhattan's elite pretending their money is clean. Politicians, business owners, old money families like mine. Everyone dressed in their best, drinking expensive champagne, and lying through their teeth.
I hand my keys to the valet and walk inside, Leo beside me.
There was no way he was getting out of this.
The ballroom is already full. A string quartet plays in the corner. Waiters circulate with champagne and canapés. Women in designer gowns glitter under the chandeliers. Men in tuxedos cluster in groups, making deals and forming alliances.
This is my world. I was born into it. Raised for it. And I've never been particularly fond of it.
"Remember," Leo murmurs as we enter. "Finesse. Restraint."
I snort. "I know how to play the game."
And I do. Bianca trained me for this. I was learning which knife to use during the fish course around the same time I learned how to sever someone's artery for a quick kill.
I accept a glass of champagne I won't drink and begin the rounds. I shake hands, make small talk, and grease wheels with polite conversation. There's a developer who wants to discuss a property deal. A judge who wants assurance about a case coming to trial. A councilman who wants a donation for his re-election campaign.
I smile. I nod. I say the right things, and I try not to imagine how I could kill these people.
I'm bored out of my mind.
"Adrian Nero." A woman appears at my elbow, all red lips and calculated curves in a dress that costs more than most people's rent. "I was hoping you'd be here."
I don't remember her name. I don't care to remember it.
"Enjoying the evening?" I ask, because that's what you say.
