Kirsten had barely stepped into the opulent lobby of Stellium Media when the receptionist politely stopped her.
She studied the receptionist's professional smile, mulling over her next move, when a sudden commotion erupted near the VIP elevator on one side of the lobby.
A middle-aged man, clearly a high-ranking executive, hurried out with a fawning grin, practically jogging to greet someone.
His deep, deferential bow suggested he was welcoming someone of immense importance.
"Mr. Marlowe, I didn't expect to see you here in person!" the receptionist gasped in surprise.
The man, addressed as "Mr. Marlowe", didn't spare her a glance, his full attention fixed on the elevator.
A moment later, a tall, striking man emerged, flanked by a retinue of black-clad bodyguards.
He wore a tailored c
