Page 193 of Malicious Claim

"Ladies and gentlemen," Vasilis began, voice smooth and commanding, "it is my honor to have you here tonight. We've gathered not just to enjoy fine food and drink, but to remind ourselves of the power of connection. We are not just CEOs. We are visionaries, creators. Tonight is not merely a celebration, no, it's an opportunity. So make deals. Forge bonds. Don't just fill your glasses, fill your portfolios."

Laughter in the way rich people do spread through the room followed by scattered applause. Vasilis smiled and raised his glass in a toast. "To ambition, and those bold enough to chase it."

Makros lifted his glass, but his expression was unreadable. Nicolai leaned in slightly. "You think he's full of shit?"

Makros didn't answer. He just sipped.

As the applause died down, servers began moving gracefully between tables, pouring wine and placing plates of food in front of the guests. The hum of conversation slowly returned, but it was measured, somehow even in this setting professionality wasn't lost.

Makros picked at the filet mignon on his plate, his mind elsewhere. He was thinking, dreaming in fact of returning home to Leila.

Vasilis made his rounds, stopping by each table, exchanging brief greetings. When he reached Makros, he placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

"Walk with me," he said quietly.

Makros stood, nodding for Nicolai to stay put. They stepped out of the dinner hall onto a quiet balcony that overlooked the city skyline, its glass railing glowing faintly under recessed lights.

Vasilis took out a cigar but didn't light it. He just held it between his fingers like a comfort object.

"This is a strange world, Makros," he said. "One moment you're building an empire. The next, someone's trying to set it on fire."

Makros didn't answer immediately. He leaned on the rail, his gaze distant.

"You're not talking about shoes anymore," he said eventually.

Vasilis smiled thinly. "No. I'm talking about you." He paused briefly. "Why would someone shoot your wife?"

The question hung in the air, inescapably and inevitably needing an answer. As potential business partners, Makros understood why Vasilis needed to ask. Nobody wanted to go into business with someone who had bullets following them around.

Makros straightened slowly. "I've been asking myself the same thing."

"She isn't just a pretty face at your side," Vasilis continued. "The moment you married her, you invited her into a world with no fences. Jealous people will come at you and your loved ones just for being richer than them."

"You think it's because I won the award?"

"I know it is. Been a victim myself. Someone pulled a gun on me and threatened to back out of a deal last year."

Makros's jaw tensed. "Did you back out?"

"I didn't." Vasilis laughed, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "I wanted to, really I did but why should I let another man threaten me. I removed the threat."

Makros laughed, genuinely surprised. "Oh Vasilis, I didn't think a proper businessman like you had it in you."

"Well, I didn't think I had it in me either."

"I'll find out who shot my wife and I'll remove the threat too."

"I'm sure you will," Vasilis said calmly. "But don't let your grief blind you. There are vultures in this room tonight. Smiling, drinking, talking about investment... but they'd tear you apart if they sensed weakness."

Makros met his eyes. "I'm not weak."

Vasilis gave a short, satisfied nod. "Then act like it. Don't vanish from the scene. Don't retreat. Make them nervous."

He stepped back toward the door, then stopped.

"One more thing," he added, voice lower now. "You've got a good woman. Don't shut her out."

Makros's throat felt tight for a moment. "She's resting."