Corvin gave a faint smile, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
"They will be,after tonight."
"Or they'll see more than they should."
Corvin turned to her, his gaze calm and assured.
"We control New York. They won't see anything."
Meanwhile, new figures joined Gérard's group. They emerged from the crowd quietly, almost imperceptibly, like shadows that had always been there.
A man in a dark blue suit with a silver pin in the lapel,sharp eyes, graying temples. A woman with a cold Eastern European accent, high cheekbones, raven-black hair pulled into a severe bun. A tall Asian vampire with impeccable posture. Their faces were unknown to the public, but not to the elite.
"Monsieur De Millier," the man with the pin said, offering a slight, measured bow,almost ceremonial.
"Chicago is watching closely."
"As is Toronto," the woman added, her voice low, with a faint rasp.
"And Tokyo," the third said calmly, his accent barely noticeable but precise.
Ethan caught the word.
Tokyo.
Gérard smiled at them all with the same degree of respect.
"We stand on the threshold of a new era," he said quietly, yet the words carried clearly around the circle.
"Local conflicts will give way to global stability."
"Stability requires coordination," the guest from Chicago noted.
"International coordination."
"It will come," Gérard replied.
"The East Coast is only the beginning."
The words were spoken softly, almost intimately, but there was no doubt in them,only fact, as inevitable as a law of nature.
Roy, as though sensing Ethan's tension, appeared beside him with a fresh glass. The wine inside was dark, almost black under the chandelier light.
"You're holding up excellently," he said with a gentle smile, offering the glass.
"A little more for confidence?"
Ethan looked at the glass, then at Roy.
"I think I'd better keep a clear head," he answered.
"It's still… a stressful day."
For a fraction of a second the silence grew denser,as though the air itself had frozen.
Elizabeth shifted her gaze from the glass to Ethan's face; her eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
"People usually drink more when they're nervous," she remarked with a light smile, though something sharp lingered in her tone.
"I'm trying to change," Ethan replied, keeping his voice even.
Roy held his gaze a moment longer than usual,one second, two,then nodded and took the glass back.
"As you wish."
But Elizabeth did not look away. A thin shadow of suspicion appeared in her eyes.
At the same time, backstage in the technical area,among cables and flickering panels,Flash leaned over an auxiliary terminal.
His fingers moved quickly, almost lazily, as though he were simply checking sound levels rather than cracking access panels. Lines of code scrolled upward on the screen like water running in reverse.
"Secondary channel located," he muttered under his breath.
"Encryption… old."
"Cocky bastards."
He inserted a miniature module into the side port; the indicator lit up with a dull blue glow.
"We'll have a window," he said quietly into the concealed microphone, voice level and emotionless.
Bruno, meanwhile, walked along the service corridor with his tray,steps even, gaze downcast.
Behind a slightly ajar door, two guards' voices drifted out.
"Hale's orders," one said.
"Additional screening for second-circle guests."
"Even those who already passed biometrics?"
"Everyone."
"Too many cameras. Feels like something's off."
Bruno slowed his pace,just barely, without changing his expression.
"Begins in ten minutes," the second added.
Bruno continued walking at the same steady rhythm; the tray in his hands didn't waver.
Ten minutes.
Amid all this, Gérard stepped onto the stage.
He took the microphone and began to speak.
"Tonight a new mayor for the city will be chosen, and I would like the team from the music studio to turn on some music."
"So everyone can dance tonight!" He raised his right eyebrow and gestured with his hand toward the entire room.
The applause gradually faded; the wave of sound receded, leaving behind a faint echo like distant thunder.
Gérard stepped down from the stage a few paces and handed the microphone to the host,the motion precise, almost ceremonial.
The lighting in the hall softened; spotlights dimmed slightly. Music returned as a barely audible background,strings, muted, like breathing behind glass.
Gérard stopped beside Ethan.
He didn't turn to him immediately; he simply stood, allowing silence to gather around them like dust settling around an unmoving object.
"Before you go out there," he said calmly, "I would like to speak with you privately."
The words sounded gentle, almost caring, but there was no request in them,only statement of fact.
Roy nodded at once.
"Of course."
Laurent followed without invitation, silent as a shadow cast by an unseen light source.
His footsteps made no sound, yet his presence pressed physically,cold weight in the air.
They entered a small side room behind the stage: glass walls, subdued light, a long table with a carafe of water and a stack of documents.
Through the glass, blurred silhouettes of guests moved outside,like shadows behind a curtain.
The door closed with a soft click; vacuum-like silence fell instantly, cutting off the outer world.
Gérard turned to Ethan slowly, without haste.
"I prefer clarity," he said.
"Before important moments."