Martin froze for half a second, clearly not expecting the topic to shift so suddenly.
He adjusted his collar with a touch of reserve and cleared his throat. "I did spend a few years in Manhattan back in the day. Greenhill, a boutique investment bank specializing in M&A. You've probably heard of it."
When Don Quixote heard this, a playful smirk touched his lips.
"Greenhill... yes, a fine firm. Small and exquisite," he said, swirling the wine in his glass nonchalantly, as if he were just discussing the weather with Martin. "My luck wasn't as good as yours, though. I didn't get to enjoy life at a boutique bank like that. I was stuck grinding it out at JPMorgan Chase for years. Didn't even make Executive Director until I was around thirty."
Martin's smile froze on his face.
In the world of finance, JPMorgan Chase might as well be God. When it came to prestige in investment banking, only a handful of firms, like Goldman Sachs, could even compare.
