Kieran returned to the ballroom with the same gentle smile he had worn throughout the evening, greeting guests as they passed through the entrance. He moved at an unhurried pace, acknowledging familiar faces with a nod or a few pleasant words before making his way farther inside. The ballroom had been a point of contention during construction. Nolan had always considered the term outdated, an unnecessary bit of extravagance left over from another age, but Kieran and, apparently, the rest of the world disagreed. Looking at it now, with its high ceilings, polished floors, elegant lighting, and carefully arranged tables, Nolan was beginning to understand the appeal.
The room was already alive with conversation. Guests gathered in small clusters, exchanging introductions and discussing business over champagne and expensive liquor.
The low murmur of voices blended with the music drifting from the far end of the ballroom, where a small stage had been arranged for the evening's performers. Kieran recognized several familiar faces among the crowd, businesspeople from Gotham and Star City who had either invested in his ventures, benefited from his hospitality, or simply recognized the value of being seen at the right events.
A few were people he had met only once or twice, yet they greeted him as though they were old friends. That was the beauty of these gatherings. Familiarity could be manufactured, and a well-placed invitation often accomplished more than months of correspondence.
In the grand scheme of things, a hotel opening should never have attracted this many influential people. Unless, of course, the person opening it happened to be Lex Luthor or Bruce Wayne. Kieran and the others had understood that from the beginning, which was why they had never treated the Continental as merely another hotel.
They had cultivated interest long before the first building was finished, borrowing prestige from their connections, extending invitations to people whose names carried weight, and making certain that every detail suggested an establishment far more exclusive than its years in business could justify. The invitations themselves had been carefully prepared, printed on fine parchment and delivered with enough ceremony to make receiving one feel like an accomplishment.
Social networking was more important than most people cared to admit. Wealth could buy a building, a reputation, and even a measure of influence, but connections were built through repeated encounters and the careful management of relationships. Kieran had used every contact available to him to turn Continental openings into events people wanted to attend.
The hotel became a place where business could be conducted, introductions could be made, and reputations could be strengthened. Guests came because they wanted to be seen, because they expected to meet someone useful, or because they had heard that the right people would be there. Most would never discover the full extent of what the Continental offered. Those who did, however, would have a perfectly respectable reason to visit, and nobody would think twice about a wealthy businessman spending the night at a hotel where half the city's influential figures had already stayed.
And with the Metropolis opening, the pattern would only grow. The next event would be larger, the guest list more impressive, and the Continental's reputation more firmly established. Each new hotel would benefit from the prestige of the last, until attending an opening became something of a social obligation for anyone who considered themselves important.
Kieran surveyed the ballroom, his smile broadening. Perfection. That was the only word he could find for it. The guests, the music, the lighting, the staff moving through the crowd with practiced efficiency; everything had come together precisely as he had hoped.
"Kieran!" Randall Jeffries Jr. called as he approached, his expression bright with genuine enthusiasm. "This is wonderful. You've really outdone yourself, my friend. Next year, I think I might hold my celebration here."
"Jeffries, it's been far too long." Kieran opened his arms and drew the man into a warm embrace, making certain the surrounding guests had a clear view of their reunion. "I would be honoured. And I suppose I owe you a particular thank-you. Your donation helped us finish construction ahead of schedule."
Jeffries laughed as they separated. "It's only been a week or so since we last met. You're making it sound as though I've been away for years." He glanced around the ballroom before leaning closer with a conspiratorial grin. "Tell you what, how about you offer me a discount when I decide to host?"
He would never actually use one. A man in Jeffries's position would sooner pay twice the price than risk appearing cheap in front of his guests, but there was no reason to spoil a perfectly good joke.
"I'll tell you what. For you, I'm sure something can be arranged." Kieran accepted a glass of whisky from a passing waiter. "When did you arrive?"
"Just a few minutes ago. I couldn't wait to get into the ballroom. I remember you telling me about it when we last spoke, but I must say, it looks even better than I imagined. You really must send me to your architect."
"Of course. I'll have my assistant send the details to yours."
Jeffries nodded, then took a glass of champagne from a nearby tray. He drank half of it before his attention wandered across the room. His expression shifted into something approaching surprise, and he tilted his glass towards a man standing near the far side of the ballroom.
"I didn't think he was going to show up," he said. "You certainly know a lot of people."
Kieran followed his gaze. He recognized the man immediately, though his expression gave nothing away. Instead, he laughed, clapped Jeffries lightly on the shoulder, and stepped back.
"Looks like I have another guest to greet. Please, enjoy yourself. We can speak again before the evening is over."
"I will, I will. Don't let me keep you."
Kieran left him with a final smile and crossed the ballroom, weaving between groups of guests until he reached Oliver Queen. The former mayor of Star City was standing with a drink in hand, looking over the room with the quiet attentiveness of someone accustomed to assessing a crowd rather than simply enjoying it.
"Oliver! I didn't think you would make it."
"I had the time," Oliver replied, offering a grin. "Figured I should see what all the fuss was about."
"I'm glad you did. No missus today?"
"Unfortunately, she wasn't able to make it." Oliver glanced around again. "This is a lovely place, though. You've done a good job."
"Thank you. I hope you enjoy the opening. And please, let my staff know if you need anything. I would hate for you to leave disappointed."
Oliver chuckled. "I'll be sure to."
Kieran was preparing to continue the conversation when he noticed another familiar figure entering his peripheral vision. His smile remained in place, but his attention shifted immediately. "I'm terribly sorry, Oliver. I have a few more guests to greet. Enjoy yourself, won't you?"
"Of course."
Oliver watched him leave. Kieran crossed the remaining distance to Lex Luthor, who had arrived without attracting quite as much attention as his reputation might have warranted. That, Oliver suspected, was deliberate. The billionaire stood with the ease of a man who rarely had to announce his presence to be noticed, his immaculate suit and composed expression making him seem entirely at home among Metropolis's wealthiest residents. He greeted Kieran with a pleasant smile, then gestured towards a quieter section of the ballroom.
"Impressive opening, Kieran."
"Thank you. I'm glad you were able to attend. I imagine your schedule is dreadfully busy."
"It was no trouble." Lex glanced around the room, taking in the guests and the hotel's polished interior. "Did you enjoy the lunch I hosted? It was a shame we had to end it early."
"I did. The food was excellent, and the atmosphere was wonderful."
"Not to mention the connections."
"Of course. Meeting everyone was a pleasure."
"Good." Lex allowed the word to linger before turning his attention fully towards Kieran. "I'm glad, because I must admit, I'm a little confused."
Kieran took a measured sip of his whisky. He had anticipated this conversation, though he hadn't expected Lex to approach him so openly during the opening. "Confused about what, Lex?"
"I've heard that certain nuisances have become aware of my intentions regarding the election." Lex's expression remained pleasant, but something in his voice had sharpened. "An odd coincidence, considering how few people knew about those intentions in the first place. Fewer still had the means to pass that information along. Yet somehow, the information found its way into the wrong hands."
Kieran regarded him over the rim of his glass. "What exactly are you accusing me of, Lex?"
"I'm not accusing you of anything. I'm trying to understand." Lex's smile never faltered. "Why would a man of your ambition and intelligence choose to play both sides? Surely you understand that this won't end well for you."
Ah. The price of greed had finally come due.
Kieran remained silent for a moment, letting the accusation settle between them. Then a laugh escaped him, quiet at first before growing into something more genuine. It was not the reaction Lex had expected, and the billionaire's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"My apologies if I've upset you, Lex. It was a little harmless fun. Surely you can appreciate the value of a little competition?"
"So you won't even deny it?" Lex asked. "Are you honestly expecting me to believe you made an enemy of us because you thought it would be entertaining? I thought you were more intelligent than that, Kieran. Perhaps I was mistaken."
Kieran's smile softened, though it did not disappear. He understood the position he had put himself in. Lex was not a man accustomed to being embarrassed, particularly not by someone he had invited into his circle. Worse it was evident Kieran passed the information both ways. There was no apology that would restore the relationship to what it had been, not without offering something in return. And Kieran could not afford to give him that. If he bent the knee now, Lex would know exactly how much pressure was required to make him do it. Every future disagreement would end the same way.
There was only one option left. Push forward and convince Lex that the consequences mattered less to him than they ought to. It was a dangerous game, especially against someone as calculating as Luthor, but Kieran had never been particularly interested in making his enemies comfortable.
He glanced at his watch. "It seems you've misunderstood my intentions from the beginning, Lex."
Lex's expression tightened. "And what intentions would those be?"
"I don't care."
For the first time, Lex's smile faltered. "What?"
"I don't care," Kieran repeated, setting his glass on a passing tray. "I don't care about the power struggle between you and the Light. I don't care about the Justice League, and I certainly don't care about the Reach. You people have a remarkable habit of assuming that anyone with a little wealth, a few interesting connections, and the occasional unusual hobby must secretly aspire to rule the world." He gave a small shake of his head. "It's an exhausting way to live."
He continued before Lex could respond. "You and the League will fight. You'll scheme, undermine one another, and spend an extraordinary amount of money trying to ensure that the other side loses. Meanwhile, I'll be watching from a comfortable distance, looking for opportunities to profit. Perhaps you'll win. Perhaps they will. Perhaps you'll both make such a mess of things that someone else will come along and take advantage of it. I honestly don't care which outcome comes to pass."
A short laugh escaped him. "And you came here believing I would be frightened by a few threats? That I would suddenly reconsider my business because Lex Luthor was displeased with me? You may even decide to turn your attention towards me. You might decide that selling a little information deserves some grand act of revenge. If that's what you want, I suppose we'll have to deal with it."
Kieran stepped closer, lowering his voice just enough to ensure their conversation remained private. His expression was still friendly, but the amusement had left his eyes.
"Understand something, Lex. I am far more willing to do whatever I must to survive than anyone you've ever met. I have no grand vision for the future of the world, no cause that requires me to sacrifice everything, and no particular loyalty to the people who believe they should be in charge of it. I have a business to run and people who depend on me. That's where my priorities end." He held Lex's gaze. "We aren't enemies right now. Think carefully about whether you actually want us to become them."
Kieran straightened, picked up his glass again, and turned as though the conversation had reached its natural conclusion. He took two steps before pausing, looking back over his shoulder with a grin.
"And just to be clear, I'm not threatening you. Why would I?" His smile widened. "We're friends, aren't we?"
He left Lex standing there without waiting for an answer.
The exchange had cost him more than he would have liked, but it was done. Lex could take the threat for what it was, or he could convince himself that Kieran was an arrogant fool who had mistaken his own luck for invulnerability. Either interpretation was preferable to allowing the billionaire to believe that he had found a weakness he could exploit.
Across the ballroom, the music began to change. The musicians were preparing for the evening's next piece, and a member of the hotel staff approached the stage to make a quiet announcement. Kieran watched for a moment, then handed his glass to a passing waiter and made his way towards the small platform. It had originally been intended for the live music, but the staff had arranged a microphone and lectern there in case he wished to address the guests. He had not planned to speak for long. A few words of thanks, a brief acknowledgment of the people who had made the project possible, and then he could return to the evening.
As he climbed the steps, the conversations around him began to fade. A few guests noticed first and turned towards the stage, prompting others to follow. The musicians brought their performance to a close, and the room gradually settled into expectant silence. Kieran waited until he had their attention before approaching the microphone. He did not rush to fill the quiet. Instead, he looked out over the ballroom, allowing himself a moment to take in the people gathered there.
"Good evening, everyone."
His voice carried easily through the room, warm and measured. He did not need to shout, nor did he rely on theatrical gestures to command attention. He simply stood comfortably behind the lectern, one hand resting against its polished surface.
"First, allow me to thank you all for being here. I know how difficult it can be to find an evening free in Metropolis, particularly when so many of you have obligations that would make the rest of us question whether sleep is really necessary. So, genuinely, thank you for making the time. It means a great deal to me, and to everyone who has worked so hard to bring this hotel to life."
A few guests laughed. Kieran smiled, giving them time before continuing.
"When we first began building the Continental, I was told that I was being rather ambitious. That perhaps I should start smaller, establish myself, and only then consider expanding. It was sensible advice. The sort of advice one receives from people who have every intention of being helpful." He paused, letting his smile grow a little wider. "Unfortunately, I've never been particularly good at following sensible advice."
The laughter this time was broader, and Kieran used it to settle into his speech.
"But ambition alone does not build anything worth keeping. A hotel is not simply a collection of rooms, nor is it the marble in the lobby, the quality of the food, or the comfort of the beds. Those things matter, of course, and I would be very disappointed if you found them lacking. But a hotel is ultimately about people. It is about the people who work within its walls, the people who pass through its doors, and the experiences they carry with them when they leave. It is a place where strangers become acquaintances, where acquaintances become friends, and where a conversation over dinner might become the beginning of something much greater."
He moved away from the lectern slightly, looking across the assembled guests rather than fixing his attention on any one person.
"That is what I wanted the Continental to represent. A place where a guest can arrive knowing that they will be welcomed, where their time is respected, and where the service they receive reflects the importance we place on their patronage. It does not matter whether you have travelled across the world to stay with us or simply crossed the street for dinner. Once you enter our doors, you are our guest. We take that responsibility seriously."
His gaze briefly passed over the businessmen and women he recognized from Gotham and Star City. Many of them had helped establish the Continental's reputation, whether through investment, introductions, or simply by being willing to attend its first opening. He acknowledged them with a slight inclination of his head before turning back towards the room.
"Metropolis is a city with a remarkable history and an even more remarkable future. It is a city that has never been particularly interested in standing still. That made it the natural choice for our next home. I would be lying if I said the decision was without its challenges, but I have been fortunate to work with some extraordinary people. Our architects, our builders, our staff, and the many local businesses that helped make this evening possible have all contributed something to this establishment. I hope that, when you look around tonight, you see a little of their work in every corner."
He paused, allowing his eyes to settle briefly on Lex Luthor. The billionaire stood among the guests, his expression once again composed. Kieran offered him the same genial smile he had given everyone else.
"And, of course, I would be remiss if I failed to acknowledge the people who have helped make our expansion possible. Progress is rarely the work of one individual. It requires cooperation, a willingness to share ideas, and, perhaps most importantly, the good sense to recognize that even the most ambitious plans benefit from a few well-placed introductions."
The words were harmless enough to everyone else. A polite acknowledgment of investors, partners, and the value of networking. But Lex would hear the other meaning. Kieran had built his business by collecting connections, and he had no intention of allowing any one of them to dictate where those connections led. He was not going to choose a side simply because someone powerful expected him to.
"Some people believe that success is measured by how much of the world you can bring under your influence," Kieran continued, his tone still light. "I've always preferred a simpler measure. How many people are willing to walk through your doors, and how many are happy to return? If we can provide a place worth visiting, a service worth recommending, and an experience worth remembering, then I will consider the Continental a success. Everything else is simply a matter of time."
He stepped back towards the lectern, resting one hand against it again.
"So, please, enjoy yourselves tonight. Eat well, drink well, meet someone new, and take advantage of the evening. Our staff are here to make certain you have everything you need, and I hope this will be the first of many occasions we share together. Thank you for your support, thank you for your confidence, and welcome to the Continental."
The ballroom answered with applause. Kieran waited for it to settle, offering a final appreciative nod before stepping away from the microphone. The musicians resumed their performance, and the guests began returning to their conversations. Within moments, the ballroom had regained its earlier energy, though now several people were making their way towards Kieran to congratulate him on the speech.
Lex, gazed across the room considering the words of the speech. Kieran had just told him, in front of a ballroom full of influential people, that the Continental intended to remain independent. And if Lex wanted to make an enemy of him, he would have to do so knowing that Kieran had no interest in playing by the rules of either side.