My heart was hammering against my ribs, but on the outside, I was the picture of calm, polished professionalism. I was in the final interview for the Vice President of Acquisitions role at Davenport Industries, a job I had been dreaming of for years. The office was a temple of glass and steel on the 75th floor, with a view of the entire city sprawling below.

The only person left to impress was the god of this temple himself: Julian Davenport. He was younger than I expected, maybe late thirties, with sharp, intelligent dark eyes, black hair styled with a casual precision, and a custom-tailored suit that probably cost more...