Outside the Crown Hotel, traffic pulsed through the drop-off loop. Doormen in sharp black suits opened doors with practiced ease, guiding guests toward the gleaming glass entrance.
Ryan stepped out, his palm brushing against his thigh—just once—to wipe away the sweat.
"Relax," Eddie muttered as they moved through the revolving doors. "Smile, shake hands, pretend to read the damn papers. Easy."
Ryan nodded, but his pulse didn't get the memo.
He straightened his back and walked in, entering the long hallway that led to the ballroom. Overhead, crystal chandeliers spilled warm light that danced off the gilded metal inlays. At the corridor's end stood a black-and-gold placard stamped with the Zero9 logo in sleek, modern type.
Inside, the ballroom was dressed head to toe in Zero9's signature palette: matte black, gold trim, and subtle streaks of electric blue.
