The elevator of the Torredo penthouse chimed open at precisely 7:00 AM. A pale, unkempt young man stepped through into the private foyer, clutching a military-grade decryption deck tightly under his arm.
This was Eli, the young hacker working for Tony. Today, he was in the flesh for the first time, his forehead shining with a nervous sweat, his oversized flannel shirt smelling of stale coffee and energy drinks.
Emily stood at the far end of the marble corridor, wrapped in a heavy silk robe, watching his arrival in a state of utter, frozen oblivion. Her eyes tracked him as Tony aggressively marched out of the master suite, gripped Eli by the shoulder, and herded him straight into his locked private study and the door clicked shut.
