The conference room atop the Steele Complex was bathed in morning light, the skyline of Los Alverez shimmering through the glass walls.
In his office, Olivia Sinclair sat across from Darren Steele. She had a poised posture, considering everything that had led up until this point. However, she manages to remain calm.
She had her signature green hair tied back in a low, businesslike knot and wore a silver suit that kissed her body tightly.
In front of her and Darren lay the contract: ten pages of carefully revised agreements, equity shares, long-term options, and a mutual understanding of vision.
Perfectly brought together by none other than the efficient Rachel Teschmacher.
Darren didn't rush. He read every line, and Olivia waited, her fingers tapping once, twice, before Darren finally looked up. "Olivia," he called her. "You understand what you're signing?"
"I do," she replied, her voice level. "And I accept all the terms."
