Carmela sat in the opulent hotel room, the lavish feast before her ignored as she gazed out the window, lost in her thoughts. The festival outside was a cacophony of music, laughter, and fireworks, but none of it reached her. Her mind was consumed by the mysterious call she had received earlier that evening.
Professor Mallory, usually so composed and distant, had called her in a rare state of agitation.
"Carmela, please talk to Mr Dean" she had urged. "Help me plead so I won't lose my job…"
Nix Dean..
The name rang in her ears, familiar yet unfamiliar. Was he just another businessman, or something far more significant? She watched him now, sitting across from her, his focus unwavering from the screen of the laptop before him. He seemed like a deity engrossed in the minutiae of his own creation, his fingers dancing over the keyboard with practiced precision.
