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Il Club Delle Maschere had resumed its normal rhythm, with the dance troupe having disappeared, the soft jazz music returning and the masked guests once again huddling into their conversations. The atmosphere seemed different though, more charged than before as the dance performance had left its indelible mark on the club and everyone in it.

Hannah and Maria both felt the air crackle, thick with unspoken possibilities. They moved through the crowd, their masks granting them freedom as they navigated the velvet-draped shadows. Near the bar, a woman in a peacock-feather headdress laughed, the sound rich and knowing, while two men debated sovereign bonds in hushed, urgent tones.

"Are you buying or selling?" The voice, low and amused, came from Hannah's right. She turned to find a man in a simple porcelain mask, his lips curved in a knowing smile, holding three glasses of champagne. "You two look like you're strategizing a hostile takeover," he added, offering one glass to her and one to Maria.

Maria accepted hers with a graceful nod. "Just appreciating the... ambience," she deflected smoothly.

"Ambience is currency here," he said. "It reveals more than names ever could." He raised his glass. "To profitable revelations."

Hannah took a measured sip, the champagne bubbles sharp against her resolve. "We're assessing where value lies when masks obscure the players," she replied, her gaze sweeping the room.

The porcelain-masked man chuckled, a dry, papery sound. "Clever. But you still haven't told me if you're buying or selling. In this place, everyone is either buying or selling. The trick is knowing which one you are."

Maria tilted her head, studying him through her mask. "And which are you?"

The porcelain mask gleamed as he took a sip, his smile never wavering. "Tonight?" He let the pause linger just a beat too long. "That depends who's asking."

Hannah's gaze drifted past him, scanning the crowd near the grand piano where the scarab-masked man had vanished. The air still hummed with the dancers' energy, a restless undercurrent beneath the jazz. She needed to stay sharp, she had important work to do later.

Maria decided to seize the moment. "I represent a boutique bank," she said. "Mergers and acquisitions."

The porcelain-masked man nodded thoughtfully. "A crowded space. What makes your approach unique?"

Maria leaned in slightly, her voice a low murmur. "We specialize in hostile takeovers disguised as rescue missions. Leveraging overlooked vulnerabilities." She didn't elaborate, letting the implication hang like smoke.

The man nodded sharply. "Ruthless. I like it." He set his empty glass on a passing tray. "Perhaps we'll circle back. Enjoy the hunt." He melted into the throng near the bar, leaving them in a pocket of sudden quiet.

"For a moment, I thought I'd got a useful contact there," said Maria.

Hannah shook her head. "He was just playing games. I wonder how many people here are just doing the same?" She scanned the room again, seeing masks glittering under candlelight, heads bent close in whispers, laughter spilling in sudden bursts. She wondered which conversations were genuine and which were performances. The masks made it hard to tell.

She was still scanning the room when a new voice slipped into their space, smooth and deliberate. "Two beautiful brunettes standing alone. I must be the luckiest man in Milan." Hannah turned to find a tall man

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