The indigo light bathing the Meridian Gallery felt heavier now, as if the very air had been pressurized. The polite networking of the earlier rounds had vanished, replaced by a silence so profound that the rustle of a program or the shifting of a chair sounded like a landslide.
Jake sat in the center of Box 1, his back not even touching the velvet of the chair. He felt the phantom heat of the punch he'd delivered to Alex still simmering in his joints, but his eyes were fixed on the stage. Behind him, Marcus and Leon were leaning back, their expressions unreadable, while Elizabeth watched the floor with a sharp, predatory focus.
'They seem to be going all out to prepare,' Jake thought, watching the stagehands move with a frantic precision he hadn't seen all night. 'What exactly did Alice tell them? The shares she chose might just surprise everyone.'
