The invitation itself wasn't unusual.
Carlos invited David to dinner several times a year. Sometimes to discuss business. Sometimes to discuss the family foundation. Occasionally for no reason other than maintaining a relationship that had existed for most of David's life.
Tonight felt no different.
At least at first.
They met at one of Manhattan’s most exclusive restaurants, tucked away in a private dining room reserved under David’s name. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the city below, thousands of lights stretching toward the horizon. The service was discreet, the atmosphere controlled, the kind of place where conversations like this were expected.
By the time dessert arrived, most of the conversation had focused on business.
Carlos slid a folder across the table.
David opened it
