Julian recovered enough to scowl.
"What is this?" he demanded. "What game are you playing, Aria?"
He stepped toward me and reached for my arm. He had used that grip whenever he wanted to end an argument before I finished speaking.
The gesture came so easily that for one second he forgot the guards outside, the Sterling crest on the files, and the city spread below my chair.
"Stop this nonsense. We're leaving."
I picked up the wine beside my chair and threw it in his face.
Red ran through his hair and soaked the collar of his white shirt. His hand dropped.
He looked at the stain, then at the empty glass. At home, he would have called for staff. In my conference room, no one moved to help him.
I stood. "Mr. Vance, when the head of Sterling grants you a meeting, keep your hands to you
