The 45th Floor Evaluation
Kai stepped off the bus and into the biting morning chill. The financial district's polished granite gleamed in the morning light, a far cry from the chaotic streets he called home. The sun's glare bounced off the towering buildings, making him squint.
He felt like a sore thumb - underdressed, too loud, and way too visible. The whole scene felt like a world away from his own neighborhood's gritty charm.
He pulled the address up on his phone again, confirming the impossible destination: Veyra Tower.
The building itself looked less like an office and more like a high-tech mausoleum built to house secrets and limitless wealth. The sheer, overwhelming scale of it caused a nervous tremor to run through Kai's hands, making the phone vibrate slightly in his grip.
The morning had been a blur of arguing with Mara, her voice escalating from worried to furious as she begged him not to go through with the meeting. She saw it as a deal with the devil, a compromise too far. Kai's reassurances had felt hollow, even to himself. But he couldn't shake the spark
Adrian's words had lit - a toxic mix of pride and curiosity. He was here because Adrian had called his bluff, and Kai couldn't resist the challenge.
Kai walked toward the entrance, his steps feeling heavy and alien on the flawless pavement. The lobby was a vast, echoing cathedral of muted luxury, a sea of slate-gray marble that reflected the ceiling's recessed lighting like still water.
There were no friendly faces, only impeccably tailored security personnel whose eyes scanned every inch of his appearance, lingering briefly on the paint-faint stain on the cuff of his worn jacket. The silence here was oppressive, thick with the unspoken understanding of who belonged and who did not.
He approached the visitor desk, a sleek, curved structure of brushed metal that seemed to float in the center of the room.
A woman with raven-black hair looked up, her face a mask of professional calm. "Good morning," she said, her voice as cool as the marble floor. "Can I help you with something?" Her tone was polite, but her eyes said she had more important things to do.
Kai had to clear his throat. "I'm... Kai. I
have an appointment with Mr. Veyra. Ten o'clock."
Her eyes, the color of fine whiskey, glanced at a tablet screen. There was no flicker of surprise, no acknowledgment of the unusual nature of the meeting. "Ah, yes. Mr. 'Kai'," she confirmed, the single name sounding both clinical and profoundly important. "You are expected.
Please take the express elevator to the 45th floor. Someone will meet you there." The woman's gesture directed him toward the sleek elevators hidden behind the polished wood paneling. As he walked away, he could feel the security team's eyes on him, their gazes cool and assessing, like they were sizing him up without any real interest.
The elevator was a box of brushed steel and mirrored glass. When the door slid shut, the silence became absolute. There were no buttons for the lower floors; the keypad only displayed options starting from the 30th floor and higher. Kai pressed '45'.
The elevator shot up, leaving Kai's stomach behind. He gripped the railing, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him. As the numbers blurred by - 15, 22, 30, 38 - he fought the sudden urge to hit the emergency stop and bail. His chest felt tight, his heart racing like he was trapped.
What are you doing? his internal voice screamed. This isn't a job. This is an acquisition.
He forced himself to breathe, reminding himself of the cold coffee and the blank canvas in his apartment. This was the price of freedom. He would take the contract, he would demand clear terms, and he would earn his way out of Adrian's shadow. He would not allow himself to be manipulated. Contract. Terms. Public. He recited Mara's rules like a desperate mantra.
The elevator stopped without a whisper of
motion. The door opened onto a world entirely divorced from the city below.
The 45th floor was a sleek, modern oasis. Floor-to-ceiling glass walls framed a stunning view of the financial district, making Kai feel like he was floating above it all. The interior was just as imposing - charcoal leather couches, travertine walls, and a space so immaculate it felt sterile. This was Adrian's domain, and it showed: precise, controlled, and unapologetically powerful. Every detail screamed one thing: I'm in charge.
A woman was waiting. She was taller than the lobby attendant, her suit a perfect structure of dark wool, her blonde hair pulled back so tightly it looked painful. She held a tablet and offered no greeting.
"Mr. Kai. This way, please," she instructed, her voice flat, instantly establishing the formality of the environment.
She led him down a hushed hallway lined with unmarked doors - doors that seemed to whisper "undisclosed" and "private". The air was thick with confidentiality. They stopped at a single door, heavy and imposing, made of dark wood that seemed almost rugged in its unpolished state. The contrast to the sleek, modern surroundings was jarring, and somehow, it felt deliberate.
"Mr. Veyra will see you shortly. Please wait here."
She opened the door, and Kai stepped into a vast, angular waiting room that felt more like a private museum gallery. The room held only three things: a single, black marble sculpture of an abstract, upward spiral; a low table of tempered glass; and a single, dramatically lit, butter-soft leather chair.
The assistant's words were a cold splash of reality. "Mr. Veyra dislikes clutter," she said, her gaze lingering on Kai's fascinated scan of the sparse room. "He'll signal when he's ready. Don't leave the seat."
The door thudded shut behind her, enveloping Kai in an oppressive silence. He stood frozen, his eyes adjusting to the stillness. This was a test, and he knew it. Sit, wait, obey. Simple enough - but the stakes felt anything but. Would he take the bait, or play it cool? The silence seemed to pulse with anticipation, daring him to make a move.
He sank into the leather chair. It molded instantly to his body, expensive and unnervingly comfortable. He tried to relax, but the height was dizzying. Below him, the streets looked like the tracks of a toy train set; the people, mere ants. He was in Adrian's domain now, at his mercy.
He waited for 10, 15, 20 minutes. The silence was suffocating, weighing him down like a physical presence. He felt the urge to move, to shake off the feeling of being trapped, but the assistant's warning echoed in his mind.
Don't leave the seat. He tried to distract himself, thinking about art, colors, light, but his mind kept drifting back to the sculpture he'd seen earlier. The spiral that led nowhere. The empty space. It was like a reflection of Adrian's world - powerful, yet hauntingly lonely.
He was about to risk a surge of rebellious strength briefly tipping the balance against fear when the inner wall of the room, which Kai had let himself assume was impenetrable stone, shimmered and then noiselessly opened to reveal Adrian Veyra's principal office.
The transition was sudden, disorienting.
Adrian stood at the window, a commanding figure bathed in the harsh morning light. His suit was a work of art, tailored to perfection, and the setting only added to its magnificence. He seemed to dominate the space, his presence imposing, as if the city outside was his kingdom and he its unyielding ruler. The light highlighted the sharp angles of his face, and his eyes seemed to hold a piercing gaze, as if daring anyone to challenge his authority.
Kai stood at once, the leather chair protesting softly in the stillness.
Adrian turned slowly. His expression was calm, controlled, and totally impenetrable. His eyes scanned Kai, from his somewhat rumpled hair to his worn shoes, the look lingering on the slit in his jacket a silent appraisal.
"You're late," Adrian stated, his voice devoid of warmth. "I require punctuality, Kai. It's the single thing that cannot be bought or traded."
Kai frowned, glancing at his phone. I arrived a full ten minutes early. Your assistant made me wait for twenty-five minutes.
Adrian's head inclined in a small nod, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "The test started the moment you got the invite," he said, his voice low and smooth. "I had to see if you'd wait, if you'd disobey, or if you'd swallow the delay. And I had to see if you'd call me out for my team's screw-up. You passed... by a hair.
He gestured to a low-seating area, a sofa and two armchairs arranged around a sleek, low-profile desk. "Sit."
Kai moved to the armchair, forcing himself to master his posture, sitting up straight and meeting Adrian's gaze head-on.
Adrian sat on the couch, not opposite Kai, but at a careful angle, maintaining a wary asymmetry of power. He did not ask him to coffee or make small talk. He leaned forward and picked up a thin leather-bound folder from the glass desk.
"Let's get to the obvious. You require money and time to paint. I'm proposing to give you considerably more than you asked for. In exchange, I require something special, something I'm not in a position to purchase in the normal manner."
Kai swallowed. "Mara said to demand a contract. A clear list of duties."
Adrian opened the folder, but didn't look at the contents. He looked only at Kai.
"There is no contract," he said, the words dropping like stones. "Not in the traditional sense. This arrangement is based on trust, discretion, and a utility you possess that no other assistant, model, or employee I have does."
Kai's heart thudded in his chest. "Then what's the job? Why am I here?"
Adrian set the folder down. "You're not here to paint, nor are you here to mix drinks. My businesses run themselves. My actual needs are internal and very complex. Your job, Kai, is to be my reflector."
Kai blinked, utterly confused. "Your. reflector?"
"Exactly," Adrian agreed. "All the people surrounding me, my workers, my rivals, my friends, they all tell me what they believe I want to hear, or what they believe is in their own best interest. The result is a distorted reality. I need somebody who sees the world outside of this glass, somebody who is uncorrupted by my power, somebody who will reflect the truth to me unflinchingly."
Adrian leaned forward, his bright blue-grey eyes piercing. "Your job is to observe my movements, my friends, and my spaces, and tell me what you feel.".
To point out the hypocrisy, the lying, the blind spots in my worldview. To tell me when my decisions are based on the shadow, not on reason. You will be my reality check, my conscience, and, at times, my eyes in areas where my presence would be a compromise."
Kai stared, speechless. This was worse than an offer of slavery. This was an offer of his soul, his own unique voice, to be placed entirely at Adrian's disposal.
"And if I refuse?" Kai managed to speak at last.
"Then you leave here today with enough money to cover six months' rent, and the offer will be permanently rescinded,"
Adrian's eyes locked onto Kai's, his gaze unyielding. "If you walk out now, you'll always wonder what could've been," he said, his voice steady. "You'll go back to the club, knowing you were too afraid to take control of your life. But if you stay...," a flicker of intense excitement danced in his eyes, "you'll have everything you've ever wanted. A studio of your own, your tuition covered, and the capital to launch your career." His voice dropped, taking on a hint of intrigue. "Your first task is straightforward, Kai. But it's entirely unpredictable."
Adrian dug into the folder, not for papers, but for a state-of-the-art, anonymous cellular phone black, sleek, and totally unidentifiable. He placed it on the glass desk between them.
"Your first task is to take this phone, go back to your old neighborhood, and spend the rest of the day casing a small, nondescript coffee shop three blocks away from your apartment," Adrian instructed.
"You are to observe all people who come and go over the course of four hours, making a note of any repeat customers or those who do not look as though they belong. This is 'The Copper Mug' on Elm Street. Do not interact with anyone. Do not use your personal phone.
Just observe. Then call the one number programmed into this phone and tell them everything, no matter how irrelevant it may appear."
Kai gazed at the phone, then at Adrian, the sheer randomness of the assignment sending him completely off balance. "A coffee shop? Why? What's the purpose of this?"
Adrian's smile was a cold, predatory flash of white. "That, Kai, is your second task. You won't know why until you complete the observation. Now, do you accept the terms? Because if you so much as touch that phone, you're mine, and you don't get to leave until I let you."
Kai looked down at the anonymous, black phone, the gateway to his freedom on the desk. He was Horrified by the attraction of the unknown, thrilled to be called upon to turn his artist's eye to something darker and more substantial than canvas. He had sought a contract when he came here, but Adrian was offering a life of high-stakes, gruesome applicability.
He reached out slowly, his fingertips inches from the chill glass before they finally wrapped around the warm, smooth plastic of the burner phone.
Adrian's gaze never wavered, his eyes piercing as he watched Kai make his decision. A small, satisfied smile played on his lips as Kai accepted the phone. "Good choice," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "Your time starts now. Remember, your eyes are mine." The words hung in the air like a challenge, or a warning. Kai felt the weight of them as he stood, the phone a tangible connection to the world he was now a part of. He was in Adrian's pocket, and he knew it. The first task loomed before him, a test of his loyalty and his morals. He was about to spy on his own people, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was in over his head.
To Be Continued