Lourdes was sullen again this evening. Sebastian Shaw's direct observation of his fiance's mood, had been stated somewhat tartly. Actually, he believed himself to have behaved with undue patience. But his reproof had been met with an infuriatingly imperious turn, which had meant he was once again to meet with Ned, unaccompanied. Doubtless Paris Seville would be present. How awkward of Lourdes to persist in her petty grudge. Fume! Shaw's expression neatly matched his mood. A gaze as pitch as coal, and with knotted brow.
His chauffeured car halted outside the Club, and after a moment, Bernadotte, Shaw's security Chief opened the passenger door. Tessa stepped out first, herself a dark though shining jewel, was in no small part; adequate compensation for Lourdes' absence. Just now, Sebastian indulged himself with the sight of Tessa's wonderful legs, and subsequently his mood recovered. That Shaw; billionaire industrialist, kept such imposing company did much to secure his outward appearance: of someone you didn't want to mess with. However being escorted by a personal security detail and a cold looking femme noir, also disguised that Shaw was perhaps the more fatal one to cross paths with, i.e: someone you didn't want to mess with. Either way it worked out the same, it suited his purpose.
Shaw entered by the lobby into the grand; some would say, over opulent Hellfire Club bawdy den; Manhattan. Recognised, ushered in with due respect. Awe! He strode into the Club lounge. He noticed with satisfaction, that it was Leland's young roe; Frost, who held the floor's rapt attention. Gratitude to Tessa, that she saved Shaw the full splendour of the dancer's act. Though he could appreciate the effect it seemed to be having amongst the club goers. Tension you could probably cut with a knife, he laughed. His personal assistant was as observant and sentinel like as ever, and Shaw knew that there was something more at work amongst the crowd, than the usual revelry.
"How very intriguing, my dear." Shaw smiled.
Donald Pierce was uncomfortable, he sat alone at a dimly lit table with a single candle to illuminate his dark expression. In a CEO role of a major mining company, Donald had come to expect certain things. He was not in the habit of being treated with such lack of respect. The music played around him in what he thought of as defiance and the theatre was full of revellers that shamelessly used the premise as place to earn their kicks. The simple fact that scantly dressed women were involved was merely a distraction. Their gyrating around him and other club members, placed upon stages and on pillars both in the physical and metaphysical sense, bore little interest from the blonde magnate.
This was not the reason for the frequent visits by the ancestor of Anton Pierce, no he was here to discover what secrets had made his late grandfather a powerful and successful man in his own right. His hopes were to find out the right persons to network with. He had already tried to branch out on his own in order to make some respectable senior member take notice, but this futile attempt without the right connections had led to failure and loss of face, among other things.
So it was at the club that Donald sat somehow hoping that he might find that secret thing that would propel him further to gain that single thing that satisfies greed, more. He cradled a half glass full of scotch, the ice had melted or been chewed as he made an effort to lick his wounds and drown his sorrows in the same attempt. He clicked his fingers loudly and waved the glass around before consuming the remainder. Setting it down and peering through the square glass, Donald spotted a man enter from the main lobby. This was a man of importance as seen by the hurried movements of the wait staff. His glass made full, Donald made a disgusted sound for the servant to vanish and continued to watch the thick set man.
It was unmistakeable that this was Shaw Industries lead man, Sebastian. Remaining in his chair, Donald took the glass to his lip and simply offered a nod as salutation before partaking of the 1787 Chateau Lafite. "Enjoy the show you arrogant fool." He muttered to himself smiling all the while not knowing that it was this man that might tip the balance in him becoming more than just a failed despot.