PART 3

The silence that settled over the ballroom was unlike anything I had ever heard. It wasn’t that awkward silence that appears when someone breaks a glass, but a heavy silence that makes even the powerful lower their gaze.

Raymond Harrell moved through the crowd, his back straight, his face cold, his eyes fixed on me. As he passed, men who had been boasting loudly just moments before stepped aside, and women who had looked at me with pity stopped smiling.

Spencer reacted first. He adjusted his jacket and walked toward him wearing his most polished business smile.

“Mr. Harrell, what an honor to have you here,” Spencer said. “If you had let us know, I would have prepared everything.”