“The whole point of this dinner is to avoid an all-out war. Can you try and get the f**k on board?”
“Fatherhood has made you soft,” he sighs.
“It’s made me wise,” I growl right back. “Now get out of here before I kick your ass.”
With that, I turn and walk back into the dining room.
Bartek has left his seat at the dining table and moved towards the massive French doors that overlookthe garden.
“This is a beautiful piece of land,” he tells me without so much as a glance in my direction. “How bigis it?”
“Just under an acre,” I reply.
I notice that his wine glass is empty. He’s had three already.
I’m under no allusions about his state of mind, though. The fucker could hook an IV drip of vodkaright into his carotid and still be a threat.
“Beautiful,” he echoes. “How a
