The floor-to-ceiling windows of the Apex VIP Lounge look out over a city being swallowed by a relentless, blinding blizzard. It’s a cold, snowy morning that has paralyzed the streets below, but inside, the air is thick with the scent of expensive bourbon and the faint, artificial ozone of the club's cooling system.

​He sits reclined in a deep leather armchair, one leg crossed elegantly over the other. Despite the early hour, he looks impeccable in his white slacks and a silk shirt left daringly unbuttoned. In his hand, he swirls a glass of amber liquid, though his mind is miles away from the luxury surrounding him.

​Today is the day. After years of clandestine research and millions in failed prototypes, his company’s new pheromone inhibitor is finally scheduled for its global launch. To the world, it’s a medical breakthrough; to him, it’s a crusade.

​He watches a snowflake smudge against the glass and vanish. He wouldn't allow this to fail—not because of a storm, and certainly not because of the board members' cold feet. Too many people are counting on this to reclaim their lives from the biological chaos of their own bodies.

​A soft chime sounds from his phone on the marble table. The first shipments are moving.

​He takes a slow, deliberate sip of his drink, his blue eyes tracking the frost on the window with a predator’s focus. The world might be freezing over, but he’s just getting started.