Page 21 of The Hunter's Empire

He looks ahead for a moment, attention drifting briefly across the room before answering. "I like my odds doubled."

I study him carefully. "So this is purely strategic."

"When dealing with people like the Keegans?" His gaze flicks toward me briefly. "It would be stupid not to be."

There's no arrogance in the statement. Just calculation.

I study the room again. "And you think I improve your odds?"

"I think you see angles other people miss."

The answer comes too easily. Like he decided that long before tonight.

I let the silence sit between us for a moment before speaking again. "You say that like you’ve already figured me out."

"That would be careless."

"And yet you still approached me."

"You inherited an empire and immediately tried restructuring parts of it against the wishes of people far older and more dangerous than you." His voice remains calm. Matter-of-fact. "That tells me enough."

I glance toward him properly then. "You make me sound reckless."

"No." A brief pause. "Calculated."

For some reason, that lands differently.

Before I can answer, movement across the room catches Stefano’s attention. A group of men greet him near the far side of the bar, familiar enough to earn real smiles instead of polite ones.

"I’ll be back." He says quietly.

Then he disappears smoothly into the crowd. And suddenly, despite the dozens of people surrounding me, I feel alone. Not vulnerable. Just aware.

Aware that most people in this room have spent years operating in shadows I only recently stepped into. They move throughconversations effortlessly, glasses in hand, masks hiding expressions already trained not to reveal much anyway.

Everyone here understands power.

I recognize a few faces despite the masks. Men who condemn corruption publicly while financing it privately.

A familiar kind of hypocrisy.

I remain near the edge of the room, taking a slow sip from the whiskey I picked up moments earlier. The burn settles warm in my throat while my eyes continue scanning automatically. No one here looks nervous. Which probably means they’ve all done worse things than I have.

A few moments later, the low conversations around the room begin fading one by one as a man near the fireplace steps forward. The shift is subtle but unmistakable as eyes gradually turn toward him.

"Gentlemen," he says smoothly, glancing around the gathering, "thank you for joining us tonight."

Then his eyes land on me. A subtle pause follows before he inclines his head slightly. "And Madam."

The shift in attention is immediate. Every head in the room turns toward me at once.

I feel the weight of it instantly. The curiosity, the judgement, the amusement from some of them. A woman here is unusual enough. A woman bidding tonight? Even more so.

I keep my posture relaxed anyway, lifting my chin slightly as my gaze moves calmly across the room. If they expect discomfort, they will not get it from me.

Most faces remain hidden behind expensive masks and carefully neutral expressions. Except one.

My attention catches on him almost immediately. No mask.