The massive crystal chandeliers hanging in the main lobby of the Grand Sky Building seemed to refract a light far too dazzling for anyone entering with a modest social status. Martha Thorne stepped forward with her chin held high, her fingers squeezing the strap of a limited-edition designer bag that had only just been paid off by yesterday's mysterious injection of funds. "Hurry up, Ethan! Don’t walk like a tortoise!" Martha snapped without looking back. Ethan Vale, wearing a clean white shirt that was slightly thin at the collar, walked calmly behind the group. In his hands, he carried shopping bags containing Martha's spare coat, Maria's extra bag, and a leather document case belonging to Mr. Thorne. He looked exactly like a personal assistant, or worse: a porter in a sea of tuxedos wor
