Westbrook Industries towers above the financial district like a glass and steel monument to corporate power, its forty-three floors reflecting morning sunlight in geometric patterns that hurt human eyes but provide perfect clarity to my enhanced vision. I enter the marble lobby with the measured stride of someone who belongs in spaces designed to intimidate, my tailored charcoal suit a uniform that signals competence in the language of expensive fabric and precise tailoring. The elevator carries me to the thirty-eighth floor in silence punctuated only by the mechanical whisper of cables and the distant hum of climate control systems that maintain artificial perfection.
The executive boardroom awaits behind double doors of polished walnut, its interior designed to project authority through
