The long mahogany table gleamed under the chandelier, casting a warm glow over platters of roasted meats and steaming vegetables. Adam, Sofia, Tristan, and Raymond were already halfway through dinner, conversation flowing easily as the clink of cutlery echoed softly in the cavernous dining hall.
Tristan was in full storyteller mode, his jacket off, sleeves rolled to the elbows. "And then opposing counsel slammed his briefcase shut so hard the handle broke off. I swear, Sofia, it was like watching a courtroom drama—except Adam didn't even blink."
Adam smirked, cutting into his steak. "Because my legal counsel had already trapped him in three clauses. The handle breaking was just dramatic flair."
Raymond chuckled into his wine glass. "I don't know what's more entertaining—your negotiations or Tristan narrating them."
Sofia sat between Adam and the empty seat Gwen usually took. She smiled faintly, but her eyes darted toward Tristan, who was now leaning on one elbow.
