KANE

The boardroom of the Callahan Group was usually a place of high-stakes energy, but today it felt like a mausoleum. The air was stagnant, heavy with the scent of floor wax and the silent, judging presence of the men and women who held my life in their pens.

I sat at the far end of the long mahogany table, my hands clasped tightly in front of me to hide the tremor I couldn't quite suppress. Across from me, Zane looked like he was already wearing the crown. He was leaned back, his legs ...