[POV: Jack Monroe]

"If you move that pen one millimeter closer to the signature line, Cete, I will make sure the only thing you ever manage for the rest of your life is a hospital bill you can't afford to pay."

Jack Monroe sat at the head of the obsidian conference table, his voice low and vibrating with a primal frequency that seemed to rattle the very glass of the skyscraper. To the twelve board members seated around him, he looked like a king returning to a throne he had found occupied by scavengers. His tailored suit was crisp, but his eyes were bloodshot, the pupils blown wide as he...