"Smile pretty, O’Neal. Everyone's watching. And I won't have you ruin this for me."

~$~

I know the moment I step into the study that this isn’t a conversation.

It’s a performance.

Reo is sitting behind the desk like a CEO-turned-king. His fingers are steepled, and his eyes are void of any human warmth. Adele’s seated on the edge, legs crossed, wine glass dangling from her hand like a prop. She’s already smiling, slow and snake-like.

Leo stands in the corner with his arms crossed. His jaw is clenched, but his eyes are blank.

I stand alone, like a witness to my own trial.

Reo doesn’t waste time. “Marcus Lane’s...