Mornings in Canary Wharf were always grey.
Julian walked into the office with a paper cup in hand. His expression was calm, but there was still a trace of last night's fatigue in his eyes. His shirt was crisp, his hair perfectly in place. Aside from the look in his eyes, he appeared no different from any other day.
Greg was already there. He stood by the glass wall of a small meeting room, quiet and composed, like a hunter waiting.
"Julian, step in for a moment."
Julian pushed the door open and closed it behind him. Greg handed him a folder, not bothering to open his laptop. He tapped the cover once with his finger.
"Family office. Middle East. They want a bespoke structured note. Not huge size, but very particular. Best not to involve product."
Julian raised an eyebrow. "You're skipping formal channels?"
Greg smiled faintly, not denying it. "They want to come in anonymously. Off the grid, no automated tracking, no sales footprint. We'll need to build it ourselves."
"Who's leading?"
"You."
The answer came clean and fast. Greg sat down, the tone of someone handing out a reward, but his eyes carried a trace of testing.
"Take it as a test run. You wanted the PM title, didn't you? Put your name on it."
Julian flipped through the documents. The client was based in Qatar, fronted by an advisory firm, backed by a family trust. The note wasn't particularly complex,autocall with dual barriers, standard risk-return ratio.
But bypassing the product and building a structure manually was an unofficial breach of protocol. Greg's "opportunity" was either a chance or a setup.
"You choose your team," Greg said. "Keep it small."
Julian nodded and turned to the last page. "They want quanto?"
Greg looked at him. "Do you think they'll tell the truth?"
They exchanged a glance.
Julian closed the folder. "I know who I need."
As he opened the meeting room door, Rick happened to be walking past. One earbud in, eyes on an email, but when he heard "Middle East," his step hesitated for a beat.
He didn't stop. Just cleared his throat softly and kept walking.
Julian glanced over, then looked away.
The game had begun.
The office at night was quiet, like a library. Aside from the screens and the occasional sound of a printer, all that remained were fingers tapping and the sound of breathing.
Emma sat by the window, reviewing compliance documents. Tomasz was buried in whiteboards and models. They both knew this was the first time they'd been pulled into something realseen, trusted, and tested.
Julian sat in the center. Greg had named him lead. He didn't say much, but every word landed. He wasn't handing out tasks. He was drawing lines.
"Quanto collar for the FX exposure," Julian said.
"Three versions. Stick to the client's preferred structure for now."
"Show me something by morning."
Tomasz nodded. Emma stayed quiet, listening.
Not long after, Julian returned from a call.
"They want a barrier recovery option," he said. "Emma, rough draft tonight if possible. Doesn't need to be perfect."
"Understood," she said.
Julian looked at them both. His tone was even.
"This one's not big. But if we get it right, people will remember."
He added, "If anything blocks you, flag it early. I'll take the hit."
The room was quiet for a few seconds.
Tomasz asked softly, "You really think… skipping the product's going to be fine? Greg's got us covered?"
Julian didn't avoid the question.
"The structure wasn't our call. But the execution is. Clean is something we control."
He said it softly, but both of them sat up straighter.
Emma went back to her screen. Tomasz reloaded his models.
The three-person team had formed.
They barely left the office over the next five days.
Julian pushed the pace. Tomasz kept up. Emma didn't miss.
There were no official titles, but they had started to move in Julian's rhythm.
For the first time, the unit felt like a team. And Julianthis was the first time he understood what it meant to lead.
Not to command, but to have people follow without needing to ask why.
He knew opportunities like this didn't come often.
But this time, he had taken it.
Greg arrived ten minutes early, already seated at the head of the table, flipping through a printed packet. The screen showed a structured note recently completed for a Middle Eastern family office.
No greetings. No preamble. He began directly.
"This is a recently closed transaction for a family office. The structure was solid, execution efficient, and client feedback was very positive."
His tone was measured, but each sentence landed with precision. He paused and looked across the room.
"The project was led by Julian."
A brief shift in the air.
"He built the structure. The rest was carried out by the team. Overall, solid work."
A few people clapped. Not in rhythm. Some just nodded. A few glanced around to see who else responded.
Julian stood up, voice even. "Couldn't have done it without the team."
He glanced toward Emma and Tomasz but said nothing more.
Emma didn't look up. She flipped a page in her notes. Tomasz was still reviewing his notebook, eyes fixed on a number.
"Actually—"
Rick smiled. His tone was calm, almost indulgent.
"Look, I'm just saying introductions matter. And frankly, in certain markets, relationships matter more than models."
He paused, then glanced at Julian.
"Clients in the Gulf don't just go with whoever sends the cleanest spreadsheet. They look for people who understand how things work."
A few of the senior staff exchanged glances. Someone gave a soft laugh. Someone else began to jot something down.
Julian remained seated, his tone just as steady.
"I'm sure the drinks helped. But what closed the trade wasn't the first handshake."
He waited half a second before meeting Rick's eyes.
"It was the structure. The pricing. The compliance trail. And the fact that nothing broke."
Rick raised a brow. "Sure, sure. Execution was smooth. But let's not pretend this came out of nowhere."
Julian gave a brief smile. He didn't respond.
Greg spoke for the first time since his opening.
"Let's not get too granular. What matters is that the client's happy."
Rick stayed relaxed, still in rhythm.
"Team effort, yes. But that team didn't start in this room."
There was a flicker of motion around the table. A few people leaned toward each other. Some looked at Greg. Some waited to see if Julian would answer.
Greg didn't speak. He tilted his head slightly, gaze turning to Julian.
Julian replied, "Everyone played a part."
His tone was flat, unbroken.
Rick nodded slowly. "Of course. Of course."
He didn't press further. He leaned back slightly, as if the round had ended on his terms.
Tomasz cleared his throat, as if he wanted to speak, but nothing came out.
Emma closed her notebook. She didn't look at anyone.
Greg still hadn't spoken.
The room was tense, the air heavy with what hadn't been said.
Julian didn't look at Rick again. He stayed silent.
Greg finally spoke.
"We'll consolidate follow-ups under Tier 3 leads. We'll align next week."
He said it once and stopped.
Rick stood, gathered his papers, and glanced around the room without pausing.
A few people rose from their seats. Others stayed put.
Julian remained seated, hands folded neatly on his lap.
Tomasz had already started shutting down his laptop.
Emma stood.
She looked at Greg.
"I have something that should probably be part of this discussion."
The entire room went still.