Page 198 of Ricardo

Lorenzo nods and walks away.

Mario touches Victoria’s hand lightly. “Stay with Julia.”

Julia begins to object.

Victoria beats her to it. “Just for the moment.”

Julia exhales through her nose, frustrated, worried, but too smart to turn this into an argument while Rusk stands across the room.

I bend my head slightly. “Do not go near him.”

“I am aware.”

“Julia.”

Her eyes meet mine. “I will not go near him.”

“Thank you.”

“I dislike being managed.”

Despite everything, my mouth nearly curves.

I leave her with Victoria and cross the ballroom toward Dante.

Every step feels too public.

Not every eye in the room is on me, but enough of them are. I am Ricardo Conti. People watch because they want something from me, fear me, or hope to learn something by observing where I place my attention.

Tonight, my attention is on my son.

Dante sees me coming.

His expression changes not one bit, but I feel it close.

The commissioner’s aide is mid-sentence. Dante smiles, says something polished, and excuses himself so smoothly the man seems pleased rather than dismissed.

Only when we are alone near the edge of the table does the mask slip.

“What?”

One word. Flat. Cold.

“We have a problem.”

His eyes move past me.

To Julia.

I see the flicker before he kills it.

“Business problem,” I say and, once again, quickly explain.

His eyes skim past me and move over the man speaking to Owen.

His anger remains, but his attention sharpens.

“How?”