Billionaire Club Gala party part 8

Dalton returned to the poker room, with Mr. Wilson following closely behind him like a devoted disciple. As Dalton swung the door open, the thick air, heavy with smoke, filled his nostrils, causing him to wrinkle his nose. The room was alive with the low murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Shadows danced across the walls, cast by the flickering neon lights. In the center of the room stood a long poker table, surrounded by a group of men huddled together. The moment Dalton crossed the threshold, their laughter faded. Conversations came to a halt. They shifted in their seats, some avoiding his gaze entirely, while others exchanged anxious glances.

"He's back again! I thought he left!" a man exclaimed in fright, earning himself a smack on the head. "Shut your mouth, you clown!" the man who hit him yelled. "Do you want to get in trouble?"

The room returned to dead silence as the man quieted down, becoming as still as a corpse.