His father humi:liated him and made him sit with the chauffeurs for being “a failure,” but he was stunned when the most powerful man in the country walked into the wedding just to greet him.

“Then don’t ruin my evening,” Don Arnulfo declared, pointing an imperative finger toward the back of the room, beyond the guests’ tables, near the service entrances and the kitchen. “If you’re going to stay, you’ll sit back there. At the service table. With the chauffeurs, the nannies, and the bodyguards. And I absolutely forbid you from going near the head table or trying to speak to my business partners. No one must know that I have a son who… amounted to nothing in life.”

It was a low blow, a direct hit to his pride. But Leo didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing him bleed.

—Okay, Dad. Whatever you say.

Leo walked with his head held high, crossing the entire room under the inquisitive gaze of a few onlookers. He reached the last table, a simple board with a less elegant tablecloth, where the millionaires’ employees were eating hurriedly. He sat down there, in silence.