For the next two hours, Leo was like a piece of furniture in the grand hall.
He sat on a high-backed sofa, an invisible barrier surrounding him.
The finely dressed guests walked past him, their gazes sliding away the moment they made contact.
He was perfectly isolated.
Leo didn't feel awkward. He simply watched in silence.
He watched Evelyn Saint Cloud move through the crowd like a queen. She hosted the auction and announced where the donations would go. Her calm command of the room and her unspoken authority made the entire hall revolve around her rhythm.
He saw politicians, who were usually so arrogant on television, now bowing their heads respectfully to listen to her. He saw financiers, who held sway over all of Pennsylvania, now scrambling to raise their paddles for her charity projects.
It was a form of silent dominion.
This sense of superiority, built from money and bloodlines, permeated the air and made it hard for Leo to breathe.
