Gemotions

The music pulsed, a relentless counterpoint to the turmoil churning inside him. He moved through the crowded reception, a predator in a tailored suit. The gallery owner, a woman with a predatory smile, was holding court near a bar. He approached slowly, carefully, a polite smile plastered on his face. "Remarkable collection," he began, his voice smooth as silk. "I was particularly drawn to... the landscapes." He pointed to a painting, his grip tightening imperceptibly on the champagne flute. The owner, oblivious, launched into a detailed description of the artist's "unique perspective." His smile became a subtle weapon.