Chapter 43

The ballroom was bustling with activity. Elegant women in dazzling gowns milled around the ballroom, their jewels and hair pins sparkling in the evening light. The wooden card tables filled a corner of the ballroom and were full of Oliver's friends laughing, joking and sipping claret.

Milo stood watching the gambling action, leaning against an ornate statue, almost as if he knew of nothing else to do with himself. His dark brown eyes followed the highs and lows excitedly despite the low stakes. Milo was under his own pressures, by lining up Oliver to furnish the Gilded Falcon’s pockets he was now due to produce the goods. If Oliver did something foolish such as kill himself the club would be the losers. It was a balancing act of pressure, threat, and reassurance that he enjoyed walking. The thought that Oliver was on a knife edge towards ruin made his eyes gleam in a similarly cruel light.<