Page 126 of Power & Punishment

“James,” Adrian calls out calmly from somewhere inside the house. “Don’t antagonize our guest. Search him and bring him here.”

James huffs out a rough acknowledgment and steps aside so I can enter. As soon as I’m in, the door slams shut behind me and warm air brushes across my face, carrying the distinct scent of whiskey and cigar smoke.

The inside of the house looks even more inconspicuous from the outside. Soft jazz hums quietly throughout the space, and the walls are decorated with outdated wallpaper and art that looks like it costs way too much. Definitely not what I would picture for a mafia bad guy trying to intimidate his guests.

My surveillance is interrupted by the feeling of Adrian’s goon aggressively patting me down, clearly enjoying himself a little too much. I don’t break a sweat when his hand pauses over my gun.

He smirks, sliding the gun out of my waistband before stepping back. “You won’t be needing this,” he hums, clearly amused with himself. “Follow me.”

As soon as he turns, I take the opportunity to roll my shoulders, shedding any pent-up frustration before the real work begins.

I mentally map the house as I follow James. It’s an open floor plan with minimal places to hide, which tells me that Adrian wants his enemies to let their guard down when they walk through the door.

When the living room opens up before me, I spot him instantly.

Adrian stands beside a gaudy marble fireplace with a crystal glass loosely hanging from his fingertips.

He’s dressed in his typical uniform—dark slacks and a starch white button-down. Except this time, he’s shed the suit jacket and tie, and has his sleeves rolled up to his forearms, like this is a casual hangout among friends and not a hostile takeover.

His expression doesn’t wane when he turns around. He’s completely calm.

“You clean up nice,” he says smoothly, lifting his glass to his lips with a smile. “A step up from the last time I saw you.”

I restrain myself, fighting the urge to ball my hands up in two big fists. Instead, I busy myself by unbuttoning my jacket. “A lot can happen in less than a day.”

His lips twitch in amusement, trying to distract me from his assessing glare, closely observing every minuscule detail.

“You can leave us,” Adrian says, acknowledging the other man in the room. I almost forgot he was even there, which feels impossible with his labored breathing.

James hesitates. “But Boss⁠—”

“I said leave.”

The second command sticks and his foot soldier finally obeys, closing the door behind him.

We’re alone.

“This isn’t what I expected,” he says evenly, immediately showing his cards.

I arch a brow. “No?”

“I was hoping for a little more excitement, but then again you haven’t been as predictable lately. It used to be cute, but now it’s…annoying.”

I sigh, tilting my head to the side. “I wouldn’t be good at my job if my opponent is constantly predicting my next move.”

The corner of his mouth lifts, taking a step forward and setting his glass down on the mantle of the fireplace. “Opponent,” he repeats, tasting the word. “That’s an interesting word.”

“What would you prefer? Mentor? Colleague?” I ask, coldly. “Friend?”

“I did teach you quite a bit,” he says, changing the direction of the conversation.

“Yes,” I reply, mapping out my response carefully. “Mostly what not to do.”

The insult lands, putting a shiny new dent in his ego. Anyone else would miss it. Ignore the signs completely. But the second I see his jaw flex, I feel a semblance of victory.

I take my win as an opportunity to move deeper into the room, refusing to back down any more than I have by just showing up.

“Sit down, Leo. You’re making this feel a little too hostile for my taste.”