The mahogany-paneled conference room hummed with a barely suppressed energy. The board members of Thorne Industries, a collection of impeccably dressed individuals who collectively held sway over billions of dollars, were seated around the polished table, their faces a mixture of curiosity and guarded anticipation.
Julian Thorne, however, was anything but composed. He sat at the head of the table, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, his knuckles white. His carefully tailored suit couldn’t mask the tension that radiated from him, the barely controlled anxiety that threatened to erupt at any moment.
He stared down at the leather-bound journal in front of him, its pages filled with notes and strategic outlines, a testament to the countless hours he had spent preparing for this meetin
