The ringing in my ears was deafening. The pitch darkness of the Grand Ballroom was instantly filled with the sounds of tearing fabric, overturned tables, and the screams of the elite running for their lives. No one cared about status anymore, they were just bodies moving in the dark. On the floor right in front of me, fingers tightened around my ankle, a desperate, heavy grip that suddenly went entirely limp. A final gasp cut through the dark, and then the weight became completely still.
Someone was dead at my feet.
I didn't panic. Instead, I used the absolute blindness of the room to my advantage. I reached down, my fingers sliding along the floor until they brushed against the fabric of the fallen body. My hand found a thick, embossed leather wallet slipping out of the dead man's inner
