CHAPTER 82 — THE MEETING THAT WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE SAFE
The venue Victor Hale chose was deliberate.
Not a private estate. Not a corporate boardroom. Not even one of the discreet clubs favored by men who preferred secrecy over accountability.
It was a public place.
A restored heritage hotel overlooking the river, its ballroom converted into a refined dining space reserved only for invitation-only gatherings. Chandeliers glowed softly overhead. Live piano music drifted through the air, just loud enough to blur conversations without masking intent.
Victor Hale wanted witnesses.
Not to the words spoken—but to the illusion of civility.
Elena recognized the tactic the moment the car slowed at the entrance.
"He wants to look untouchable," she said calmly.
Adrian adjusted his cufflinks beside her. "He wants you to feel watched."
