Thirty“Ramsden Meadows will deliver some of the d’Oro vintage to you for the Golden Gate in the next day or two. I’d be grateful if you follow his instructions on what is to be done with it. Do you understand?”
Young Will Davenport didn’t wither under de Vile’s imperious stare. Indeed, the senator discerned that the steely gray of his eyes was matched by steel in his backbone, as he absorbed his gaze head on, eye to eye, unflinching. Davenport could certainly teach his only son and heir Alex a thing or two about maintaining a poker face during important negotiations.
Davenport clasped his hands on the desk in front of him, as if contemplating de Vile’s statement.
“I quite understand the instructions, Senator. I’d have to be stupid not to.”
He moved his hands to the edge of the desk and
