The heavy oak double doors of the executive suite burst open with a violence that made the crystal decanters on the sideboard rattle. Harrison Hayes, the EVP of Zenith Media, strode into the room like a predatory silverback entering a contested territory. His bespoke charcoal suit was perfectly pressed, but his face was a mask of cold, concentrated fury.
Behind him, Julian Low’s eyes lit up with a treacherous gleam. The sniveling, desperate manager who had been cowering moments ago was suddenly transformed. He scrambled to his feet, a sycophantic, oily smile spreading across his bruised face as he practically jogged to meet his benefactor.
"Uncle! You’re finally here! Thank God," Julian cried out, his voice a frantic mix of relief and rehearsed agony. He gripped Harrison Hayes’s arm, his
