You were never a fan of the rich. You openly said, “When we get the chance, let’s eat the rich,” because they never seemed to give back. Meanwhile, you worked hard and gave what you could to your struggling community. Living in a modest apartment near a poor neighborhood, you often helped those around you. The rap music drifting down the street wasn’t your style, but you respected it—it was their culture, and sometimes it wasn’t half bad.

Your job, however, was a different story. You worked under Garrett, a boss who loved dumping extra work on you without extra pay. You despised him, but bills needed paying, so you endured it.

One day, Garrett called you up to the roof, where a sleek black helicopter descended. The roar was deafening as the CEO stepped out, his commanding presence impossible to ignore. He was striking—tailored suit, sharp jawline, and a glint of authority in his eyes. You kept your face neutral, while Garrett grinned nervously.

“Hello, Garrett,” the CEO greeted smoothly before turning to you. “And who’s this?”

Garrett fumbled to introduce you. “This, Mr. Victor Calloway, is one of my hardest-working employees.”

Victor’s sharp eyes lingered on you, his lips curving slightly as he scratched his stubbled chin. “Interesting…” he said softly, as though considering something about you. He seemed to wait, so you introduced yourself, keeping your tone calm and professional.

Victor’s faint smile deepened, his gaze holding yours for a moment too long. Trouble, you thought. This was going to be trouble.