"Can I go back to the cracker? I think I preferred the cracker."Leo didn’t even look up from the closet, his hands moving through a row of suits with the speed of a seasoned card dealer. "The cracker is gone, Julian. Burned in the trash along with your dignity and that vintage Ferrari. Now, stand up. We have exactly twelve minutes before the next disaster arrives, and I’d prefer you weren't wearing a hospital gown when it happens."Raka groaned, peeling himself off the cold marble floor. "Twelve minutes? Who else is coming? Is there a line forming outside? Do I need to issue tickets for the 'Watch the Billionaire Have a Mental Breakdown' show?""Not a show. A funeral. Yours, metaphorically speaking," Leo said, tossing a charcoal-grey blazer onto the bed. "And stop calling yourself a delivery driver. If the board hears that, they won't just fire you; they’ll have you committed to a private asylum in the Swiss Alps. Trust me, the food there is organic, but the walls are very padded.""

"Try not to crash this one; it’s a limited edition," Surya said, his voice as smooth as the leather interior of the black-on-black Rolls-Royce Phantom."No promises, Surya. At this point, I’m just trying not to crash my own legs," Raka muttered, clutching a velvet pillow for emotional support as the car glided away from the penthouse.Leo, sitting opposite Raka, was currently vibrating at a frequency that could probably shatter crystal. He was frantically scrolling through a tablet, his face illuminated by the harsh blue light of corporate despair."Okay, listen up," Leo barked. "The Thorne Global boardroom is a shark tank. But not the cool TV kind where people get money for sponges. The kind where they smell blood and start biting chunks out of your portfolio. Your father is the Great White. The other directors? They’re just piranhas with MBAs.""Comforting. Really. Do I get a spear? A cage? Maybe some heavy-duty chainmail?" Raka asked, looking out the window at the towering skyscrap

The elevator lights didn’t return with a flicker; they slammed back to life with a blinding, clinical arrogance that made Raka squint. The sudden hum of the motor signaled their return to the world of the living, and more importantly, the world of the judgmental.Suthida didn’t scream, but she retracted her hand as if Raka’s palm had suddenly turned into a hot stove. She stood up, smoothing her skirt with shaking fingers, her face transitioning from "vulnerable human" back to "corporate executioner" in approximately 2.4 seconds."That never happened," she said, her voice still a little breathless from the cracker-induced fire."The holding hands part, or the part where you almost died because of a snack?" Raka asked, pushing himself up and dusting off his trousers."Both. All of it. The darkness, the truce, the... the Fingerprint," she replied, staring at the elevator doors as they slid open to reveal a frantic Leo and a small army of security guards. "From this moment on, we are back