I don't move or speak. This is her moment to drive it all home.
“My husband is here because I want him here,” Adriana says. “His role is whatever I decide it is. And right now, I've decided he's going to stand there and look intimidating while I handle business. Any other questions about my marriage?”
Someone at the end of the table actually laughs and quickly covers it with a cough.
Riccardo's jaw tightens. He pushes back from the table and stands.
“This is bullshit.” He points at Adriana. “Francesco would never have let a woman?—"
“Francesco signed a contract that says otherwise.” She doesn't raise her voice. “Sit down, Riccardo.”
“Or what?” he bites out.
He takes a step toward the spot where she is sitting.
That’s when I move.
I don’t go for his jugular, although I’d really like to do that. I just move forward, positioning myself next to Adriana’s shoulder. It’s not a fast or aggressive move. But I’m close enough that Riccardo would have to go through me to get to her.
That stops him dead. He glares at me then at her, his nostrils flaring. I silently will him to make a move so I can drop kick his fucking ass.
He doesn’t. Damn shame.
“This isn't over,” he says.
“No,” Adriana says, sparks spitting from her eyes. “It's not. But this meeting is. Vincenzo will be in touch with details about how things will proceed. I expect updates by the end of the week.” She pushes her chair back, the legs scraping against the concrete floor. “Gentlemen.”
She turns, eyes forward, and walks out. Like she owns the room.
I level Riccardo with one last glare before leaving.
And that’s when the murmuring starts.
She makes it to the car before the cracks start to show.
Her hands shake as she reaches for the door handle. But I grab it first and open the door for her.
She sinks into the seat, her eyes glued to the windshield. Minutes pass. Adriana sits with her hands in her lap, fingers clenching and unclenching. Her posture is rigid, her shoulders squared. The tension radiates off of her, humming in the air.
Three blocks later, she finally speaks.
“How bad was it?”
“Define bad.”
She turns to me, her forehead pinched. “Did they believe me? Any of them?”
“Vincenzo's definitely on your side. He played his part perfectly as the supporting right hand. The guy who spoke up, Sammy something, looked a little like he needed some more convincing, but he’s old school. He doesn’t want to deal with any bullshit, so make sure you have plans and answers for anything he throws at you. A couple of the guys looked terrifiedwhen you implied they might be hiding shit, which means they could be skimming. So keep an eye out for that.” I pause. “And Riccardo? He’s a problem.”
She lets out a deep sigh and collapses back against the seat. “Riccardo's always been a problem. My father should have dealt with him years ago. I need eyes and ears on him. I don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, and he’s a definite weak link in the organization. I wouldn’t put it past him to do something that could hurt our organization, just because he’s such a spiteful asshole.”
“We’ve got Wolfe. Maybe he can help.” I drum my fingers on the steering wheel. “You’re good at this. Giving orders. Taking charge. It’s impressive.”
“I'm good at reading people. That's different.” She's quiet for a moment. “My board meetings are easier. The stakes are lower, and everyone pretends to be civilized. This...” She shakes her head. “This is something else.”
“Yeah, but you held your own. You never backed down.”
“I had no choice. If I'd shown any weakness, they would have eaten me alive.”
