The conference level of Morrison Global smelled like polished glass and strong coffee.
Troy stepped out of the elevator with his expression already locked in place. The morning’s unfinished conversation with Alex sat under his skin like a low current. He adjusted his cuffs once and walked toward the main boardroom.
Silas was already at the head of the long table. Several senior board members occupied the near side. On the opposite side sat the Harrison contingent—two executives Troy recognized from industry events, and at the center, Stolas Harrison, glasses catching the overhead light, posture perfect.
Stolas looked up as Troy entered. Their eyes met. Neither smiled.
“Troy,” Silas said. “Sit. We’re starting.”
Troy took the chair to his father’s right. The seat put him directly across
