But it was the first honest one he had heard all evening.
***
Twenty minutes earlier, Elena Marin had been standing in the ladies' room, staring at her reflection.
She had spent almost an hour getting ready.
Not because she wanted to attend the charity gala, but because Adrian had insisted that appearance mattered.
Her dress was borrowed from a former colleague. Her shoes were slightly too tight. The pearl earrings belonged to her mother and had been repaired twice.
She had arrived at the Grand Astoria Hotel carrying a small black handbag and a folded envelope.
Inside that envelope was a photograph.
It showed a man standing beside a warehouse entrance.
The photograph was old, slightly blurred, and damaged along one edge.
But Elena knew the man.
He was her father.
Daniel Marin had disappeared eleven years earlier.
For most of her childhood, Elena believed he had died in a car accident. Her mother never discussed the circumstances. Whenever Elena asked questions, her mother would become quiet and find something else to do.
After Daniel disappeared, their apartment changed.
The telephone stopped ringing.
Men occasionally appeared outside the building.
Her mother began checking the locks three times before going to bed.
Then, when Elena was seventeen, her mother became seriously ill.
She died two years later.
Elena had spent the following decade trying to build an ordinary life.
She worked as an accountant for a small property management firm in Brooklyn. She paid rent, avoided unnecessary trouble, and rarely spoke about her family.
Until three weeks ago.
That was when she received a package without a return address.
Inside was a photograph, a storage key, and a handwritten note.
The note contained only seven words.
YOUR FATHER DID NOT DIE BY ACCIDENT.
Elena had read it dozens of times.
The storage key led to a small unit in Queens.
Inside the unit, she found old financial records, several photographs, and a notebook containing names.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Adrian Voss.
At first, Elena assumed there had been some mistake.
Adrian was a respected businessman. His company owned several buildings, sponsored charities, and appeared regularly in financial magazines.
But the notebook told another story.
Payments had been made to shell companies. Properties had changed ownership shortly before suspicious fires. Money had moved between construction firms and shipping businesses.
And at the bottom of several pages was a handwritten signature.
Daniel Marin.
Her father had not been a victim of an accident.
He had been involved in something dangerous.
Elena had spent two weeks trying to understand the documents.
Then she made a mistake.
She contacted Adrian Voss directly.
She believed that if she showed him the records, he might explain what had happened to her father.
Instead, he invited her to his office.
He recognized the notebook immediately.
He did not touch it.
He simply looked at her and asked where she had found it.
When she refused to answer, his expression changed.
"You should be careful with things you don't understand, Miss Marin."
She left.
The following morning, someone broke into her apartment.
Nothing valuable was stolen.
Her laptop was untouched.
But the envelope containing the photograph was missing.
Three days later, Adrian called.
He offered her a job.
He said he wanted to help her.
And tonight, he had invited her to the gala.
Elena knew she should have refused.
But she had received another message that afternoon.
It contained a photograph of her mother's grave.
There was a single sentence beneath it.
STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.
She came to the gala because she wanted to know who was threatening her.
She had not expected Adrian to confront her in front of hundreds of people.
Nor had she expected Lorenzo Moretti to intervene.
***
At the dining table, Lorenzo watched Elena carefully.
She was trying to compose herself.
Her fingers had stopped trembling, but her shoulders remained tense.
"Are you comfortable here?" he asked.
She nodded.
"Good."
He signaled a waiter.
"Bring her something warm. And another glass of water."
The waiter disappeared.
Elena looked at him.
"Why are you helping me?"
Lorenzo studied her face.
"Would you prefer that I hadn't?"
"No. I just don't understand."
"Neither do I."
She frowned.
"You don't?"
"I saw a woman being intimidated at a dinner I was attending. I intervened. It doesn't require a complicated explanation."
Elena looked toward the ballroom.
"Adrian Voss is important."
"So am I."
"He has powerful friends."
"Some of them are sitting in this room."
She looked back at him.
"You're not afraid of him?"
Lorenzo almost smiled.
"Fear is an expensive habit. I try not to indulge it unnecessarily."
The waiter returned with soup and fresh water.
Lorenzo thanked him.
Elena stared at the bowl.
"I don't think I can eat."
"Then don't."
She looked surprised.
"You're not going to tell me I should?"
"No."
He folded his napkin.
"People have spent enough of tonight telling you what to do."
That sentence unsettled her more than Adrian's threats.
She looked down again.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Lorenzo noticed the envelope protruding slightly from her handbag.
"Did Adrian invite you because of something in that bag?"
Elena immediately pulled the handbag closer.
Lorenzo raised one hand.
"I'm not asking you to give it to me."
She hesitated.
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because men like Adrian rarely waste an evening intimidating someone without a reason."