Phone screens lit the dark ballroom one after another. Faces appeared in their glow, all turned toward Mark. His grip loosened as messages and missed calls poured in.
The emergency lights came on and washed the room in a flat white glare. When the doors opened, men in dark suits entered in two lines. Two uniformed police officers followed with Mr. Sterling, lead counsel for the Trust's emergency board.
Mark's security team reached inside their jackets. The new men moved first, turning wrists, taking weapons, and guiding each guard facedown onto the carpet. No guest was struck, and no shot was fired.
Julian walked in behind them.
A silver crest showed on the equipment case carried at Julian's side. Old Mr. Vandergriff, who sat on the boards of a dozen global corporations, stood so abrup
