“Mr. Bennett,” the reporter asked, “are you offering a financial settlement to dismiss your own proprietary lawsuit?”

Adrian stared at the recorder as if it were a weapon.

His mouth opened, but no sound came out.

He looked at me, his eyes filled with a mixture of rage and desperation.

“We’re done here, Adrian,” I said.

He backed away, his leather shoes clicking loudly on the marble floor.

The crowd parted for him as he fled toward the exit, his head down.

Julian watched him go, a tight smile on his face.

“He won’t stop there,” Julian said softly.

“I know,” I said, my heart still racing from the adrenaline.

I looked across the room and noticed a tall, gray-haired man standing by the bar.

It was Thomas Sterling.

Sterling was watching Adrian leave, his expression thoughtful and cold.

Adrian stopped near the exit, turning to look back at the ballroom one last time.

He caught Sterling’s eye.

Sterling gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Adrian walked over to him, and the two men disappeared into the private corridor behind the bar.