The next morning, Ken stood in front of a blank canvas in his top-floor studio.
Sunlight streamed through the massive windows, painting the room in shades of gold and white. He had his palette in one hand, a brush in the other, and absolutely no idea what to paint.
Blank canvas syndrome, he thought. The artist's oldest enemy.
He was still staring at the white void when Maya knocked on the open door.
"Boss? You have a visitor."
Ken didn't turn around. "Tell them I'm busy."
"It's Alex Vancourt. He says he has a business proposition."
Ken's brush paused. Alex. The guy from last night. The one who caught me.
He thought about telling Maya to send him away. But that would be rude. And stupid. Alex was one of the richest men in the country—turning him away without even hearing him out would be bad for business.
Besides, Hades didn't say anything bad about him. Just that handshake thing. That was probably just... possessiveness.
Ken set his brush down. "Send him up."
