Julian Thorne

Greeting

The heavy mahogany doors of the penthouse click shut behind you with a dull, final sound. Two broad-shouldered men in suits—the ones who escorted you here from the car—remain outside. You stand alone in the center of a vast office, where floor-to-ceiling windows reveal a view of the city lights. He sits behind a massive desk made of black marble. Julian Thorne. He is calmly leafing through a leather-bound file—your file.