The Presidential Residence looked peaceful at night.
Too peaceful.
The kind of peace that only existed before disaster.
I leaned against the doorframe, watching my husband and my son.
Kieran was standing by the desk, he looked furious. Across from him Adrien sat lounged in an armchair, looking entirely too comfortable for someone currently being glared at by the President of the United States.
"Look at your sister," Kieran snapped, his voice a low growl. "Hanalei is constantly asking about policy. She's learning. She's observant. And you? You spend your time on racetracks and avoiding every board meeting I schedule."
Adrien sighed, looking infuriatingly handsome, his dark hair slightly messy.
Suit sleeves rolled up because apparently professionalism offended him.
"You say that like I asked to be born into politics and organized crime," Adrien replied lazily. "Some people dream of freedom, Father."
