Then he sat down.
It was such a small movement, but the air changed with it.
People breathed again.
A legal adviser at the far end of the table loosened his tie.
The translator adjusted his glasses with a shaky hand.
And from near the glass wall, a British executive with a silk scarf and a smile sharp enough to cut fruit leaned toward her colleague and whispered, not quite softly enough, “Who let the cleaning lady into a nine-figure negotiation?”
A few people gave the kind of embarrassed little laughs that powerful people use when they don’t want to fully own their cruelty.
Madison heard it.
Of course she did.
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