Norman
The gala was still running at full pace when I walked back inside — conversations flowing, glasses clinking, the whole machine of it turning smoothly like nothing had happened outside.
I straightened my jacket and moved through the crowd.
I heard it before I heard something really loud. A raised voice cutting through the low hum of the room, sharp enough to turn heads at the nearest tables. I followed the sound and found them near the far end of the floor: Daisy and a man I vaguely recognized from the energy sector, older, broad-shouldered, his face red, and his finger pointed close to her face. Daisy stood completely still, chin up, eyes cold, not backing up an inch.
His arm began to rise.
I was already moving.
I crossed the distance in seconds and caught his wrist before it
