A few minutes earlier:
The corner of the hall where Leo stood was relatively quiet compared to the centre of the banquet. The music drifted over in soft waves, muffled by layers of conversation and laughter, and the crystal lights above reflected faintly on polished marble floors. Leo held a glass he hadn't touched for a while, his fingers resting loosely around the stem as he spoke with Jacklin's cousin, Emile.
Emile stood straight but not stiff, his posture relaxed in a way that suggested good upbringing without arrogance. When he spoke, he leaned forward slightly, as if genuinely afraid of missing something Leo said. His eyes were bright, curious, and unguarded, the kind Leo had learned to recognise after years in the industry, someone who hadn't yet been touched by the ugliness of industry affairs.
