Thirty minutes later, I'm back in the lobby.
Marcus Holt is waiting.
"Ms. Vance." His face is unreadable. "This way."
He doesn't take me to the public elevators. He takes me to a different set, around a corner, behind a door that requires a key card and a fingerprint scan.
"Private elevator," he says "CEO's floor only."
The ride is even faster than before. When the doors opened, I was in a hallway that looked nothing like the rest of the building. It was made of dark wood and soft lighting with thick carpet that muffles every sound.
Marcus leads me to a door at the end then knocks once.
"Come in," a voice says.
Marcus opens the door and gestures for me to enter then he's gone, the door closing behind him with a soft click.
Kael Sable's office is not what I expected.
No wood paneling or leather-bound books or a massive desk designed to intimidate.
Instead, windows, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, the entire city spread out like a painting. The desk is simply made of class which is almost invisible with few papers, and a laptop.
He's standing by the windows, his back to me, looking out at the city.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
Then he turns.
Kael Sable is taller than his photographs suggest. Six-three, at least, broad shoulders, lean build, the kind of body that comes from function, not just gym membership. His hair is dark, almost black. One white streak at his left temple, stark and unexpected.
His eyes are what get me citrine like amber and honey in dim light. They catch the sun coming through the windows and they should look warm, but they don't. They're watching me.
He's wearing a dark suit with no tie, his sleeves are rolled up just slightly, showing his forearms. There's a tattoo on his left wrist. I couldn't see them clearly from here.
He doesn't smile.
"You're early."
I don't answer.
He walks toward me in a slow deliberate way, stopping about ten feet away. Close enough to see, far enough to be safe.
"I've been watching you for six months, Vale Axton."
My name, my real name in his mouth.
"Following your trail through Europe, tracking your movements and wondering when you'd finally come to me."
I force myself to speak. "If you knew who I was, why didn't you stop me? Why let me get this far?"
"Because I wanted to see what you'd do."
"And what have you decided?"
He tilts his head slightly. Studies me like I'm a puzzle he's been trying to solve.
"You're not a consultant, you've never been a consultant."
My heart pounds but I held his gaze.
"I have a degree, a portfolio and three references who will confirm my identity."
He takes a step closer.
"I don't care about your identity."
Another step.
"I care about your intention."
We're closer now. Close enough that I can smell him, he smells of something clean and expensive. Soap cedar and something underneath that's just him.
"Why are you here, Vale?"
The question hangs between us.
I could lie, I have a dozen lies ready but his eyes, those citrine eyes, they're not angry or accusing. They're just... watching and waiting.
"I wanted to find the truth."
"About what?"
"About my father, about what happened to him and who destroyed him."
He's quiet for a long moment.
"And you think that was me."
"I don't know what I think anymore."
He studies me while I do the same. The city hums below us, air conditioning whispering. Everything else was silent.
Then he does something I don't expect.
He smiles.
Not a warm smile or a friendly smile but something else. Something that makes my stomach flip in a way I don't want to examine.
"You're either the bravest woman I've ever met," he says quietly, "or the most reckless."
"Maybe both."
"Maybe." He takes a step back. The distance feels wrong…right…I don't know.
"Here's what's going to happen," he says. "You're going to start Monday and you're going to report to Croft. You're going to do excellent work, because I've seen your file and you're genuinely good at what you do."
I wait.
"And while you're doing that work, you're going to look for whatever you think I'm hiding. You're going to dig through my company and search for proof that I destroyed your father."
My mouth opens but nothing comes out.
"And when you don't find it—" He pauses. "When you don't find it, you're going to come back here. And we're going to have another conversation."
"You're hiring me,knowing who I am and why I'm here."
"Yes."
"Why?"
He looks at me for a long moment. His eyes move over my face like he's memorizing it.
"Because you're interesting, and because I've been waiting for someone like you to walk through that door for a very long time."
He turns back to the window. The conversation is over.
"You start Monday, Vale. Don't make me regret it."
I stood there for a moment, frozen.
Then I turn and walk out.
Marcus is waiting in the hallway. He leads me to the elevator without a word.
The ride down was slow while the lobby stretch and the street blur.
I walk to Bryant Park and sit on a bench and stare at nothing.
He knew.
He knew everything.
And he hired me anyway.
Either Kael Sable is the most reckless man alive, or he's already playing a game I don't understand.