The sharp hiss of the golden doors lingered in the vast conference hall as every head in the conference hall turned.
The golden panels slid open wider, leaving an empty space, and for a few seconds no one moved.
The silence was heavy, and the faint hum of the air-conditioning above was the only sound in the conference hall.
Then came the click of heels.
A tall middle-aged woman walked into the conference hall with her back straight.
Her walking pace was steady and deliberate, as if she owned the ground she walked on, and the woman was Stephanie Walter.
She was wearing a dark suit that fit her body neatly, with every part smooth and tidy.
A silk scarf was resting on her neck, and its ends were moving slightly with each step as the cool air from the hall brushed past it.
Her high heels hit the floor in a steady rhythm, with each click echoing in the silent conference hall like a drum.
Her calm and cold eyes moved across the room with a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
