CHATER 281

Kendrick didn’t sleep that night. The energy from the gala, the speeches, the promises it was all still thrumming in his chest. He had seen it in their eyes, the shift. It wasn’t just about the money anymore; it was about the idea, the vision he had sparked in their minds. But as the night unfolded into early morning, he realized that what he had started was only the beginning. The real work, the grind, the sweat, was yet to come.

***********

The next morning, Kendrick sat at his desk in the gleaming glass-and-steel office that had been hastily arranged for him. The sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting long shadows across the sleek wooden surface. Bridget was already there, her posture as composed as ever, a cup of coffee in hand. She had always been the steady one between them—methodical, precise, the mastermind behind the scenes. But Kendrick knew, deep down, that her approval was something he couldn’t take for granted. She didn’t give it easily.

“Last night went
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