Victor Hale had just tried to buy me out of the room the same way he bought his son a bride. The man had exactly one move, and he had just shown it to me.
I want to go back twenty minutes.
I had been heading for the lobby exit, folder under my arm, mind already on the drive back, when Victor appeared near the window seating. Silver-haired, unhurried. Phone in hand like he'd simply wandered over, like this was accidental.
Victor Hale was never accidental. I sat down anyway because refusing to sit would have handed him something, and I wasn't giving this man anything he hadn't taken already.
He opened with pleasantries. Compliments about my firm…measured, impersonal, the kind you gave someone you were about to insult.
Then something about Sebastian having good taste dropped into the con
