Ken looked out the window. His breath caught.
It was a six-story building.
Brick and glass, with huge arched windows on the lower floors and a rooftop terrace he hadn't even dreamed of. The entrance was framed by two potted olive trees, and above the door, a sign was covered by a white sheet, waiting to be unveiled.
Ken didn't move. He couldn't.
"Hades," he whispered.
"Go inside," Hades said softly.
Ken opened the car door. His legs felt like they belonged to someone else. He walked up the steps, his heart pounding so loud he could hear it in his ears, and pushed open the heavy glass door.
The lobby was empty but finished—polished concrete floors, warm wood accents, soft track lighting along the walls. A reception desk stood to one side, and beyond it, an elevator with doors of brushed gold.
Ken turned in a slow circle. This is mine. This is really mine.
