The Regal Ballroom of the Valmont Hotel sparkled like a treasure chest. Massive chandeliers poured light over black-tie guests and flutes of champagne that cost more than most earned in a week.
A small group of string players performed Vivaldi in the corner, but hardly anyone listened, the real sound was the quiet chatter of deals, alliances sealed with a nod, fortunes traded with a glance.
Craig Lesnar stood at the center of it all, a sharp silhouette against the gold walls. His midnight-blue tuxedo clung to him like it had been forged rather than tailored; black-opal cufflinks sparked with each subtle shift.
He didn't need to move, the room seemed to move around him. The Mayor's wife laughed too loudly at a joke he hadn't told. A high-profile executive moved slightly, measuring him in quiet calculation. A young tech Entrepreneur hovered nearby, waiting for his attention that never came.
