Mike Ross didn't rush.
That was the first difference.
The man who had nervously pitched himself to Harvey yesterday moved with purpose today. The penthouse doors of Jay Pritchett's Manhattan empire swung open, and Mike crossed the threshold like a man who had already mapped the entire room in his head.
Leather. Mahogany. The faint burn of cigar smoke in the air.
Jay Pritchett sat behind a desk that could have been mistaken for a small battleground. His hands rested on the surface, fingers tapping a slow rhythm, eyes scanning Mike like he was a chess piece he hadn't yet decided to sacrifice.
"You're the kid Harvey keeps talking about," Jay said. Low, calm, but sharp enough to cut glass. "You want to tell me why I should care?"
Mike didn't sit. He didn't fidget. He leaned on the edge of the desk, one hand brushing the polished surface, eyes locked. "Because, Mr. Pritchett, you're underestimating what Manhattan could be—and overestimating how secure your operations are."
Jay's eyebrow lifted. "Go on."
Mike's voice dropped, slow and deliberate. "Your Closets & Blinds business is excellent. Quality, reputation, clients who trust you. But your reach is capped by logistics, regulations, and lack of visibility. You can stay great, or you can become untouchable. I propose a partnership with IKEA: local manufacturing, high-end customization, a Manhattan flagship showroom, and revenue-sharing. You remain in control. IKEA scales the operation without threatening your legacy."
Jay leaned back, cigar smoke curling around his face. "IKEA? You want me to invite a multinational into my empire? Why should I trust a kid in a suit who wasn't even alive when I built half this city?"
Mike's eyes narrowed. Calm, measured. "Because I control what you can't see. Barney Stinson handles social intel. Sheldon Cooper monitors digital blind spots. Phil Dunphy secures real estate. Every variable accounted for. Every risk neutralized. You build. I protect."
Previous Life Wisdom:
Manhattan isn't won by suits or money. Manhattan is won by understanding who moves, who reacts, and who thinks they are in control while you manipulate the board behind the scenes.
Jay studied him. Silence stretched. Mike didn't flinch. He let the pause work its effect.
"You've got guts, kid," Jay finally said. Low chuckle. "I'll give you that. Draft the agreement, and I'll review it personally. One misstep…" He let the threat hang. "…and this city doesn't forget."
Mike nodded. Already, in his mind, the Manhattan flagship existed: floorplans, delivery schedules, staffing rotations, marketing campaigns, financial projections. Not just furniture. Influence. A physical foothold in the network he was building, piece by piece.
"You're a kid. How do I know this isn't another lawyer trick?" Jay asked.
Mike smiled faintly, predator-calm. "This isn't about law, Mr. Pritchett. It's about leverage. Timing. People who don't realize they're already part of your empire."
Jay's smirk widened. "Alright. Let's see if you can back that up. Remember—Manhattan doesn't forgive screw-ups."
"I don't screw up," Mike said. "I manipulate outcomes. You're the face. I handle everything that could take it from you."
Mike stepped back. Tablet in hand, fingers already sketching delivery networks, legal protections, and operational contingencies. Every move precise. Every angle accounted for.
By the time he left the penthouse, the seed was planted. Not signed. Not sealed. But inevitable.
Manhattan had another player. And he already knew the rules better than most of them.
Status Update:
Physical Asset Secured: Jay Pritchett & Manhattan IKEA partnership
Network Utilization: Barney Stinson, Sheldon Cooper, Phil Dunphy actively deployed
Strategic Foothold: Manhattan high-end consumer market
Next Goal: Avoid Blue Bloods scrutiny—Frank and Erin Reagan are watching
Mike stepped into the elevator. The city waited outside. Each building a variable. Each person a potential pawn. And he intended to calculate, control, and conquer them all.