The week blurred past like a caffeinated montage of spreadsheets, encrypted calls, and bad coffee. Charlotte, proving she deserved every penny of her mythical 20% cut, orchestrated the cover story like a Bond villain with a heart of gold.
She staged a legitimate interview process for her "Revolutionary AI Development Team"—twenty top-tier candidates from Ivy League and MIT-level universities, all desperate for the glitter of Quantum Tech Industries. Recorded, documented, professional.
Each candidate brilliant enough to make you question why you ever bothered leaving your dorm.
Then she added number twenty-one at my request: Tommy Chen.
"This is some Willy Wonka golden ticket bullshit," Tommy muttered in the waiting room, sweat soaking through his only dress shirt while MIT grads around him quietly flexed their portfolios like gym rats.
