Page 205 of Ricardo

Tomasso looks at me. “Both calls connected. Under three minutes each.”

My fingers tighten around the champagne flute.

Ricardo notices and takes it gently from my hand.

I let him.

“Anything else?” Ricardo asks.

“Rusk has stayed public. Sponsor wall, civic development table, a brief greeting near Deputy Commissioner Wells. He has looked this way three times.”

Ricardo’s face changes.

“At whom specifically?”

Tomasso’s gaze flicks to me, then back to Ricardo. “Hard to say. Toward this side of the room.”

Ricardo nods, and Tomasso moves away, still casual.

Ricardo’s eyes return to Owen briefly.

“He might not have known,” I say, not sure why I feel the need to defend him.

“Hmm,” Ricardo merely says.

Mario comes toward us a minute later, alone this time. He has just finished saying goodbye to Jeannette Salazar, who is leaving through the main entrance, after making sure enough people saw her.

“Lorenzo is moving Owen away from the sponsor wall,” he says. “Diego has exterior coverage arranged. Edoardo and Alessio are in position. Matteo and Tomasso are working the hotel security feed with our people.”

“And Dante?” Ricardo asks.

“Still on the entry chain.” Mario’s gaze returns to Ricardo. “You go with Rusk when we move him.”

Ricardo’s head turns. “No.”

The word is immediate, absolute.

Mario does not react. “Yes.”

“Julia—”

“Leaves.”

My stomach drops.

“I can stay,” I say.

Both men look at me.

“I can stay,” I repeat, more firmly. “This is a public room. My parents are here. Half the city is here.”

“Exactly,” Mario says.

I blink. “How is that an argument against me?”

“If Ricardo disappears and you remain in the ballroom alone, people notice.”

“I am capable of standing in a ballroom without Ricardo beside me.”