Sera looks exactly like I remember. She is delicate, a little nervous, clinging to Adrian's arm like she might blow away. A wilting flower. The kind of woman who exists to be protected, managed, controlled.
The kind Adrian likes, and the kind I despise.
I sigh. This asshole is the last person I want to see, and from the way Gemma tenses, I know she agrees. Unfortunately, Adrian's gaze catches ours, and he nods.
"No," Gemma's nails dig into my arm.
"Don't be a child," I growl, leading her towards her brother. "He's seen us."
We move toward each other through the crowd.
"Saint." Adrian's smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Gemma."
"Adrian." My wife's voice is carefully neutral, the mask in place. "Sera." She gives her sister-in-law a small smile, and they embrace. Sera whispers something that makes Gemma's expression soften.
"We're going to get a drink," Sera says, smiling at Adrian.
His eyes narrow, and he gestures slightly. I watch as his second steps out of the shadows. "Stay by the bar," he orders.
Gemma rolls her eyes, but they walk away. I watch them go. More specifically, I watch the men at the bar watch Gemma walk toward them in that green dress. One of them says something to his companion. They both smile.
My jaw tightens.
Adrian watches them, then turns to me. "Business is good?"
"Good enough."
"Glad to hear it. The alliance is working well." He pauses. I'm sure it is working well for him. He's the one who has the Russians on his ass, and the FBI, thanks to his brother-in-law. Antonio has me running interference on several fronts, while Adrian sits in his golden mansion doing nothing. "How's married life treating you?"
"Fine."
His eyes flick to Gemma, then back to me. "She's adjusting?"
"You'd have to ask her."
"I'm asking you." There's an edge now. Brother checking on sister, and I try not to roll my eyes. Adrian negotiated our marriage contract, even though he knew how much his sister didn't want to get married.
"She's fine," I say. "Healthy. Cooperative."
It's what he wants to hear. That I'm fulfilling my end of the contract without complications, and that Gemma is happy enough.
He wants to be absolved of guilt.
"Good. Gemma was always..." He searches for words. "A pretty jewel. She wants to be more, but she's something you polish and put on a shelf to admire. That's all Bianca ever trained her to be."
Something cold slides through me.
A jewel. Something decorative, to be looked at, not used.
I'm an asshole, but Jesus, Gemma's own brother sees her as nothing more than an object.
I think about this morning. Gemma on her knees in my office, eyes blazing with determination. The security knowledge she offered. The intelligence in how she presented her case. And more than anything, how she worked the room.
Adrian sees none of that, and no one else does.
Absolute dumbasses.
"Let's step outside," Adrian says. "I want to discuss the shipping routes. There have been some complications."
