The receptionist pushed the door open with a gentle smile, ushering Rex and Aren inside.
Aren, bracing himself, thought, Well, this is it.
The office was just as magnificent as the building itself…if not more. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping view of downtown Los Angeles, sunlight spilling across shelves lined with thick legal volumes and glossy binders stamped with studio logos. A wall of framed photographs showcased Colin Price shaking hands with movie stars, studio executives, even a former president or two. The furniture was sleek but heavy, a mix of mahogany and leather that gave the room both authority and comfort.
Behind a broad desk sat a man in his late forties, black hair neatly combed back, reading glasses perched low as he skimmed a stack of contracts. He didn't glance up at first, but the moment the door clicked open, his head lifted. His eyes landed on Rex, and his eyes lit up in recognition.
