Magnus walked into the penthouse office, his legs unsteady, his hands clammy with sweat. The weight of the moment bore down on him like a vice, his every step a struggle against the overwhelming sense of dread that gripped him.
For all his wealth, for all his years of experience navigating the treacherous waters of high society, for all the thousands of employees who lived under the shadow of his influence, here—inside this office—he felt small. Insignificant.
Because he was standing before Nathaniel Rockefeller.
Nathaniel Rockefeller. A name that sent shivers down the spines of even the most powerful. A man whose influence stretched far beyond the financial world, beyond politics, beyond the reach of common understanding. His power was the kind that remained unseen but ever-present, the kind that dictated the rise and fall of giants.
