The room was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner.

Derek sat stiffly at the far end of the long conference table, his arms crossed, eyes clouded with uncertainty.

The table was polished to a high gloss, and the windows stretched from floor to ceiling, offering a view of the hazy city skyline.

But none of that mattered, not to him.

Opposite him, James Ferguson leaned back with an air of elegance that felt just slightly rehearsed.

He adjusted the cufflinks on his charcoal suit ...