CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
KIERAN
The formal petition to remove me arrived on a Tuesday.
It was a document, printed on family letterhead, and delivered to my office. Seven signatures at the bottom with Roberto's the first.
A formal vote of no confidence in my leadership.
I read it twice, set it on my desk, and went to the window, trying to clear my head.
Seven signatures out of a possible fifteen voting members of the family council, Roberto had convinced seven to put their names on paper. It was not enough to remove me, not yet, but enough to force a formal hearing.
In our world, the appearance of weakness was almost as dangerous as actual weakness.
I called Marco.
He appeared in my doorway two minutes later, closing it behind him. One look at my face and his expression shifted.
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