The sapphire light of the Eclipse Lounge hadn't changed in months, but the man sitting in the corner booth was unrecognizable to his younger self.
Martin swirled the ice in his glass, watching the condensation drip like slow, cold sweat.
His friends were shouting, toast after toast ringing out to celebrate the "merger of the century." To them, his upcoming marriage to Katherine Throne was the ultimate power move.
"To the king and his new queen!" one of them bellowed, raising a glass of vintage Cristal. "Martin, you're finally sealing the deal. The Throne portfolio combined with Voss Éclat? You'll be untouchable."
Martin's laugh was a practiced, mechanical thing. "Lucky me," he repeated, the words tasting like ash.
