Keira didn't know how she ended up in this situation to begin with.
They were in a room. Japanese style. Low table and comfortable pillow seats. Tatami-floored, paper wall painted with black and white dragons.
If she was more observant, she could point out that the dragons were similar to the one she – often – saw on Nate's night robe. As it was, she'd associated the decoration with Leinster Enterprises' symbol.
"Dad, it's good to see you after a long while," Nate greeted the grey-haired man sitting crossed legs at the head of the lone table.
His suit didn't look better than Nate's own, but he definitely oozed the ultimate authority here. "Are you saying that it is somehow my fault, Nathaniel?"
Rick Leinster's voice was everything Keira had imagined it to be. Charmingly wise and with a hint of threat. He was a man of power.
One even Nate – the notorious innuendo expert and playful mafia lord – didn't even dare to go against.
