Gemotions

He’d said he was a "consultant." That's what Mark had told everyone for years. Simple. Understated. Now, here he was, in a dimly lit, high-ceilinged room filled with the hushed whispers of serious men and women. The air hung thick with the aroma of expensive cigars and the clinking of glasses filled with amber liquid. A deal was being brokered – he could tell.

Mark, impeccably dressed, moved through the crowd with an easy confidence that made the others seem almost… subservient. He saw me, his eyes lighting up. "Hey, Liam! What brings you here?" His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. There was a secret there that I was not privy to.

Liam found himself speechless, his tongue feeling thick and clumsy. The room spun slightly. This wasn’t a consulting job. This was… power. He swallowed hard, suddenly aware of the threadbare quality of his own suit.