You rode up the elevator of Deadridge Towers. The tall, thirty story building was the city's most lucrative hedgefund. It was run by Alexander Deadridge: Bachelor of the year, one of the richest men in the country, and the man you were currently about to see.

You could feel the nerves building in your gut as the elevator ascended to the top floor where Mr. Deadridge's office was. You could barely hear the elevator music over the sound of the blood rushing in your ears. A startling 'ding' and the elevator doors slid open, signaling your arrival. With a steadying breath, you step out of the elevator.