Max arrived dressed far more sharply than he usually liked. The suit he wore was tailored, smooth, and perfectly pressed, one of the gifts Warma had insisted he take for formal appearances. It wasn't the same dark suit he had worn for funerals or for blending into the background; this one was made to stand out, to make a statement when entering a room.
Max already had a general idea of what he was walking into tonight. From the whispers passed along to him, this dinner was meant to be a celebration for the Curts family, something to honor their recent deal. That meant Anton was bound to be present, and Max had even looked forward to seeing him again. After all, the memory of Anton being declined at the Bloodline offices and later pummeled by Darno at the reception desk was still fresh in his mind. Max had replayed the security footage more than once, watching Anton's face twist in pain and indignation.
