Chapter 1

Elias’s pov

The elevator doors opened onto the thirty-second floor and the first thing I noticed was the silence. Not the empty kind. The expensive kind. Thick carpet, soft lighting, the faint scent of something clean and expensive that rich people paid other people to maintain.

I stepped out, duffel bag over one shoulder, and the man waiting for me didn’t bother with a handshake.

“Elias.” He said my name like he already owned the next six months of my life. “You’re early.”

“I’m always early.”

He was older, silver at the temples, the kind of money that didn’t need to raise its voice. He handed me a...