The conference room feels smaller than it should. Glass walls, polished surfaces, the faint hum of the air system—everything sterile, precise, and calculated.
Eleanor is already seated at the head of the table, posture perfect, eyes sharp and unblinking. Legal and HR flank her, professional and neutral, but the tension radiating off the trio could carve steel.
I take my seat; Mira is a few chairs down, calm and composed. The pre-review had been a warning. This is the real test. I know it before Eleanor speaks.
"Thank you for joining on such short notice," Eleanor begins, her tone polite, almost gentle. But I've learned the difference between tone and intent. Beneath that softness is a blade, honed for precision.
"Let's start with you, Ethan," she continues, leaning back in her chair slightly. "Running Wolfe Holdings isn't… straightforward. Especially under your current circumstances."
