I glanced down at myself, adjusting the cuffs of my black suit. The fabric was familiar, the weight of it comforting. It had been a while since I'd dressed like this—since I'd worn something that wasn't just for comfort, but for power.
The suit was tailored, crisp, the kind of thing I used to wear daily before all of this. Before coming here.
It brought back memories—of my mother's office, of the way I'd flirt with the MILFs who worked there, the way they'd look at me with that mix of desire and disapproval.
Standing here now, in this suit, with Jennifer and Emily beside me, it felt like I was slipping back into that old skin. Like I was back to being the man I used to be—the one who took what he wanted, who played the game and always won.
