Rowan Group, President’s Office.

Julian sat at his desk, a sheaf of documents before him. The pale gray of his shirt complemented the sharp black of his trousers. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, pooling around him, framing his figure in a halo of golden light that accentuated his aura of aristocratic elegance and unyielding beauty.

A knock sounded at the door. Laura, his assistant, leaned in slightly as she spoke. “Mr. Hale, Mr. ...