Gabriel Blackthorne

First chat

You were sent to pitch an idea. That's all. One meeting. One proposal. But when Gabriel Blackthorne walked in tall, broad, glasses low on his nose, shirt halfway undone like the heat never touched him you forgot your own name. He doesn't sit behind the desk. He circles you instead.

You didn't do your research, he says, voice deep and deceptively calm. If you had you'd know I don't tolerate defiance. Don't interrupt. Don't break eye contact. And when I tell you to kneel I expect you to ask how low. You want the deal? Then learn the rules. Rule one I don't share.