novelnext Chapter 327 - 161: Invitation (2)
Chapter 327 - 161: Invitation (2)
A faint fragrance filled the air.
He adjusted his cuffs and stepped into the grand hall.
The grand hall was magnificent.
A massive crystal chandelier hung from the domed ceiling, its thousands of crystals refracting a brilliant light, illuminating the aged oil paintings on the walls.
Over a hundred people had already gathered here.
The men wore tailcoats or tuxedos, while the women were dressed in backless evening gowns, adorned with jewelry.
They gathered in small groups, holding glasses of champagne and conversing in low voices.
There was only elegant whispering and the occasional polite laugh.
Leo stood at the entrance, feeling as if he had stumbled onto an alien planet.
The people here had possessed everything from birth.
They discussed art, equestrianism, the returns on some fund, or their upcoming European holidays.
Leo took a glass of champagne from a waiter’s tray.
He didn’t rush in. Instead, he stood in a corner, observing this Vanity Fair with a discerning eye.
He saw a few familiar faces.
There were bankers who frequently appeared on the financial news, and several Philadelphia city councilmen.
But here, these bigwigs, normally surrounded by entourages, were all acting exceptionally humble.
They were all waiting for something.
Or rather, for someone.
Leo followed everyone’s gaze.
At the far end of the hall stood a massive white marble fireplace.
A group of people stood before it.
At the center of the group was a young woman.
Evelyn Saint Cloud.
Leo recognized her at a glance.
It wasn’t just because she was at the center, but also because of her unique aura.
She wore a minimalist black evening gown, with a slender black-strapped watch on her wrist.
Amidst the crowd of lavishly bejeweled ladies, she was as plain as a black shadow.
But it was this very plainness that stole all the light.
Her hair was pinned up, revealing a slender neck and a sharp jawline.
Her skin was very fair, with a pallor that suggested she rarely saw the sun.
She held a glass of plain water, but wasn’t drinking it.
At that moment, a portly banker stood before her, gesticulating wildly as he told what seemed to be an investment joke about emerging markets.
The people around them laughed obligingly.
Only Evelyn didn’t smile.
She watched the banker quietly, her expression one of polite boredom.
She was like a human watching a monkey perform; though bored, her upbringing prevented her from simply turning away.
’That’s her.’
Roosevelt’s voice echoed in Leo’s mind.
’Look at that gaze, Leo.’
’That’s the gaze of power.’
’She doesn’t need to speak loudly to prove her existence. She just has to stand there, and the very air will revolve around her.’
’Go on.’
Roosevelt encouraged.
’Go say hello.’
’Since you’re here, don’t just be a mute.’
Leo took a deep breath and placed his champagne on a nearby table.
He straightened his suit, squared his shoulders, and walked through the crowd toward the fireplace.
His steps were steady, his gaze firm.
He was the Mayor of Pittsburgh, a rising political star who had just won a tough battle.
He had the right to be here, the right to speak with anyone as an equal.
As he approached, the people around noticed him.
The whispers grew slightly louder.
"Is that Wallace?"
"I hear he’s a madman."
Leo ignored the chatter.
He walked straight up to Evelyn Saint Cloud.
The portly banker stopped talking, looking with some displeasure at the young man who had suddenly interrupted.
Leo looked at Evelyn.
Up close, her features were even more delicate, but also colder.
Her eyes were deep gray, like a frozen lake.
"Good evening, Miss Saint Claude."
Leo extended his hand, a proper smile on his face.
"I am Leo Wallace."
"Thank you for the invitation."
Evelyn turned her head.
Her gaze swept over Leo.
It did not linger.
As if she were glancing over a piece of furniture, or a decorative flowerpot by the roadside.
She didn’t even look at Leo’s outstretched hand.
She simply turned her head back and looked at the portly banker again.
"Please continue, Mr. Smith."
Evelyn’s voice was cool and melodious.
"The story you were telling about the mines in Brazil was very interesting."
The portly banker paused for a moment, then a triumphant smile spread across his face.
He shot Leo a provocative glance, then resumed his story with animated enthusiasm.
Leo’s hand froze in mid-air.
A wave of suppressed, soft laughter rippled through the crowd.
It was a mocking laugh, tinged with malice.
He had been ignored.
This was more humiliating than a direct insult.
An insult at least meant the other person considered you an opponent.
But to be ignored meant that in their eyes, you didn’t even exist.
Leo retracted his hand.
He was about to say something to salvage the situation.
Two tall bodyguards in black suits had, at some point, silently moved to block his path.
"Sir,"
one of the bodyguards said in a low voice, his tone polite but icy.
"The young lady is in a conversation. Please do not disturb her."
The bodyguard’s body was like a wall, blocking Leo’s way forward.
Leo looked at Evelyn behind the bodyguard.
Her back was to him; she wouldn’t even deign to grant him a view of the back of her head.
Anger.
That should have been Leo’s most natural emotion at this moment.
A searing flame seemed about to rise in his chest, but the moment it flickered to life, Leo himself snuffed it out.
He calmly looked at the human wall before him, at the elegant back that remained turned to him.
There wasn’t the slightest ripple of emotion in his eyes.
This calmness slightly disappointed the guests who were secretly watching, ready to enjoy a good show.
They had expected to see a flustered nouveau riche, a country bumpkin who would cause a scene after being humiliated.
They had already prepared their pitying gazes and mocking whispers.
But Leo didn’t give them the chance.
’Stay calm.’
Roosevelt’s voice sounded in his mind, tinged with a hint of approval.
’If you lose your temper now, you’ve lost.’
’You’ll become a clown in the midst of their laughter.’
’She’s testing you. Testing your limits, your composure, testing to see if you’re just a slightly stronger, slightly more temperamental monkey.’
’If you can’t even withstand this small slight, how can you ever hope to wield greater power?’
Even without Roosevelt’s reminder, Leo naturally knew how he should react at a time like this.
He took a step back, his movements composed, without a hint of panic.
He faced the bodyguard blocking him and gave a flawless smile.
"My apologies,"
Leo said.
"I was under the impression this was a charity gala, a place for people to gather for a good cause, not a private drawing room."
"Since the hostess is so busy, I won’t disturb her any further."
With that, Leo turned around.
He walked to the long table nearby and picked up the champagne glass he had set down earlier.
Golden bubbles rose in the glass.
He raised his glass and gave a slight toast in the direction of the still-whispering crowd.
Then he tilted his head back and drained the glass in one gulp.
He set the empty glass back on the table, where it made a crisp CLINK.
Then, he adjusted his suit, held his head high, and walked through the crowd toward the other end of the hall.