CHAPTER 74: BUSINESS FIRST, LOVE LATER

The evening had finally descended, cloaking the grand estate of Falcones into a grand celebration. One by one, the guests began to arrive, their expensive cars pulling up the winding drive, disgorging figures in designer attire and flashing jewels. It was a symphony of wealth and power, all gathering under the roof of Adam Falcone.

Inside, the chatter of the elite mingled with the clinking of glasses. Adam stood by a towering marble fireplace, his hand wrapped around a whiskey glass.

"Adam, I don’t see your daughter and son-in-law here tonight," one of his oldest friends, a portly man with a neatly trimmed beard, inquired.

"I’m sure he didn’t invite them. Adam was furious after Sara sold off his company," another friend, a sharp-eyed woman in a navy blue dress, interjected.

A third man, kinder in appearance, offered a conciliatory thought. "Kids make mistakes, it’s true. But Adam, you’ve always been so strict. Perhaps you should find it in your heart to forgive your daughter and bring her back into the fold. A truly strong family is one where old bitterness is finally laid to rest."

Adam took a slow sip of his whiskey. Before he could respond, a clear, young voice cut through the air.

"Dad, I’ve been looking for you."

Frida appeared, elegant and poised in a deep sapphire dress, immediately taking a secure hold of his arm. She offered a polite greeting to the three friends of her stepfather.

A rare, proud smile touched Adam’s lips. He gently patted the back of Frida’s hand. "She’s going to be the next director of Falcone Industries," he announced.

The trio nodded, their expressions shifting to impressed professionalism as they began to pepper Frida with questions about the future of the family business. Adam, however, had already shifted his focus. His keen eyes had landed across the ballroom on the unmistakable figure of Monte Picasso and his family, one of Europe’s wealthiest dynasties.

"I must excuse myself now," Adam said smoothly, setting his glass down. "Please, enjoy the evening and the dishes being served." He nodded to Frida, giving a subtle signal for her to follow.

As they made their way across the polished floor. "Where is your mother, Frida?"

Frida glanced around, just as her mother, Marcella, gracefully joined them.

"Honey, here I am," Marcella cooed. "I was just attending to your most important clients." She immediately placed a possessive hand on Frida’s arm, her gaze fixed on their approaching target. "The Picasso Family is one of the wealthiest in all of Europe," she whispered urgently into Frida’s ear.

Frida’s heart sank. She was profoundly uninterested in the Picasso fortune or their eligible son. Her thoughts were, as they always were, a tangled knot of longing for Asher, the man who had vanished from her life without explanation. Yet, for her father’s sake, Frida forced a pleasant smile, preparing herself to play the role of the willing, soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

Adam and Frida finally arrived at the edge of the crowd where Monte Picasso stood. The two elder men greeted each other with a remarkably warm embrace.

Simultaneously, Marcella glided forward. She greeted Monte Picasso’s wife with a hug. "We are so absolutely delighted that you could join us on this grand evening," Marcella said, her smile radiant and utterly convincing.

Monte Picasso turned to the handsome young man beside him. "Mathias, greet your future in-laws."

Mathias first offered a respectful handshake to Adam before turning to Marcella with a courteous greeting.

"Please, this way," Adam stated, gesturing toward a specially reserved table.

As they all settled around the grandly set table, Monte Picasso, asked, "Where is your son, Adam?"

"I’m here, Sir!" Diego’s cheerful voice announced as he strode up to the table, greeting the elders with confident ease. "Hey, Mathias! Good to see you after such a long time," he said, the two young men sharing a friendly handshake.

Diego then turned to his sister, flashing a broad, mischievous smile. "Sis, look at you! You’re going to marry this handsome man," he teased.

A wave of buoyant laughter swept around the table. Frida managed to muster only a small smile, the joy feeling brittle and entirely feigned.

The lighthearted mood, however, shattered the instant Mathias spoke.

"I was more interested in your elder daughter, though, Mr. Falcone," Mathias remarked.

The smiles instantly vanished from the faces around the table. Frida frowned, her gaze snapping to Mathias. A bitter thought coiled in her mind: ’Does he admire Sara? Why are all these men always so curious about that bitch?’

Adam was unperturbed by that comment. "Well, Sara is already married," he replied. "Frida is no less than her in beauty," he asserted, granting Frida a brief, proud smile.

Monte Picasso’s expression tightened for a fleeting second as he glanced sharply at his son. "Forgive my son," Monte said. "He sometimes gets a little too straightforward."

"It’s alright, Mr. Picasso," Adam replied, dismissing the awkward moment. He then rose to his feet, drawing all attention. "I have a special announcement to make tonight. Marcella, come with me."

Marcella simply hummed in agreement and immediately went to her husband’s side. The couple then proceeded toward the center of the hall.

Meanwhile, Diego signaled a passing waiter. "Ensure the Picasso family is served only our best dishes tonight," he instructed, maintaining the necessary facade of welcome.

Frida, however, had reached her limit. Her carefully constructed good mood had suddenly turned sour. She rolled her eyes, and walked briskly away from the table.

Diego quickly caught up with her near a secluded round table. "Frida, you need to talk to Mathias later," he advised.

Frida grabbed a glass of wine from a passing tray and took a sharp sip. "He’s more interested in Sara," she muttered bitterly. "Dad didn’t have to announce my marriage with some random man tonight."

Diego didn’t offer sympathy; he offered hard truths. "Asher is not suitable for you. If you genuinely want to grow in power and secure your position at the top of the industry, the Picasso Family is the perfect place. A family like ours operates on one principle: business first, love later."

"I don’t value such a principle," Frida said sharply.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I am pleased to have you all tonight. I won’t keep my words into mere flattery and move straight to the point you’ve all gathered tonight to celebrate a special moment with us. I’ve decided to announce the heir of Falcone Family."

As Adam said those words, a proud smug formed on Diego’s face and he took a step forward, already preparing himself to go near his father as soon as he would take his name.

"Dad, how could you start such an important event without me?" Sara’s voice reverberated in the hall, bringing all the attention to her.