On the eve of the big day, Ethan stayed late again—not out of obligation, but anticipation. The office was quiet except for the distant hum of servers. He walked past Brad’s empty desk, glanced at the binder resting there, and whispered, “Sleep well, Final_Brad_Approved. Tomorrow, you’re going live.”
The boardroom of glass walls, chrome fixtures, and a table long enough to host a small parliament gleamed under fluorescent precision. Platters of overpriced pastries waited untouched beside carafes of ethically sourced coffee. This was corporate theater at its finest, and today’s show had a very special star.