You'd think signing a million-dollar contract would feel like fireworks, confetti, and at least one bald eagle screeching in the distance. Instead? It felt like the end of a dentist appointment.
Charlotte slid a sleek pen across the table—one of those pens that probably sigh billion dollar deals. I grabbed it with a grin no one could see behind my mask and signed with a flourish so dramatic it deserved theme music.
Eros Velmior Desiderion.
Yup. That's my name now. Sounds like a Final Fantasy boss who moonlights as a model.
"There," Charlotte said, sliding the papers into her briefcase with the calm of a woman who just bought a human soul off Craigslist. "It's official. Welcome to Quantum Tech, Mr. Desiderion."
I nodded like it was nothing. Inside? Screaming.
From broke teenager to multimillion-dollar anomaly in one afternoon. On a Sunday.
God might've rested on the seventh day, but I just cashed in.
