He couldn’t have been more bored.

Silas idly tapped his fingers on the marble table beside him, listening to a few riches babble on about all their ‘success’. The amount of times he’d had to attend ritzy galas like this just to keep up his image was incredible. And the fact he kept himself in check was even more unbelievable.

His father would have to thank him immensely for his performance tonight. Going around doing this ‘social’ shit at the Summer Gala was usual work for one of his lesser siblings.

But the Don insisted his underboss be there in his honour tonight.

His neck cracked as he rolled out the muscles, easing the tension in his shoulders as one of the slobs who’d been proposing a business opposition to him for the last half hour let out a loud laugh, slapping him on the shoulder.

Silas’ jaw clicked, but his composure never dropped. His exterior looked perfectly calm and amused. “Mm, that does seem alluring, doesn’t it?”

The man seemed to like that response, “Think about it Saint, with your families ability to move product underground and the force of your men, I think we’d be an unstoppable empire.”

He was right of course, the Saint family could move narcotics like it was nothing. Not even the police dare question them. But then again, Silas knew his father wasn’t fond of sharing. Let alone have to deal with another pest.

“You’d be even more wealthy, as well as your father. And at your age you could do whatever the hell you please!” The man cooed, taking another sip of his Chardonnay. His wife seemed entertained. Leaning against his cheap suit and smiling like a sinner in church.

She was as cheap as they came.