When he arrived, he noted the display of wealth before him, like a veritable red carpet. Appetizers had been meticulously arranged, a bottle of champagne waited to be poured. A show of influence and power. He spared it only the momentary acknowledgement that decorum required of them. It was to be expected here, meeting with Eugene Prothero.
His attention remained where it mattered—on Eugene. Studying, assessing, calculating.
Tomas accepted the handshake with a practiced ease, his grip firm but not forceful. He believed in striking a balance; control was best wielded without excess.
“I imagine you did.” The faintest twitch at the corners of his mouth, just shy of amusement, betrayed his recognition of the quiet triumph in Eugene’s tone. “And I imagine you approve?”
With an easy, deliberate motion, Tomas gestured for them to sit, lowering himself into his chair.