"Why aren't you sitting at your table with your parents?" Jared's voice was laced with barely contained irritation and mockery.
He wanted to make Harold feel embarrassed for sitting with his parents like a kid.
Harold smirked, ignoring the tone of Jared's voice, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "I could be, but I find this seat much more interesting. Besides, sitting with me, a Braddock, might improve your chances for the right connections, Petrovski."
Jared's jaw clenched at the sound of Harold's last name, a reminder of the Braddock family's weight in this country, a weight that Harold wielded with reckless abandon. But Jared refused to let the brat get to him. He'd worked too hard, and faced too much to let Harold's petty jabs affect him now.
He forced himself to focus on Jerica again, standing there on stage, her voice commanding the room, her dress shimmering like the spotlight was meant for her.
