"You have ten seconds to explain why you're in my office."
Crispin Vaisey didn't look up from the document in his hand.
It was nearly midnight. The city glittered beyond the windows of his penthouse office, and the untouched glass of rye beside his laptop suggested he'd been working for hours.
You stood on the other side of his desk, refusing to be intimidated. The door stood open at your back.
He finally raised his eyes.
Blue-grey. Sharp. Annoyingly calm.
"Eight seconds."
You began explaining, but he lifted one hand, stopping you halfway through your first sentence.
"No. Start again."
He leaned back in his chair.
"This time, leave out the part where you pretend you had no other choice."
A pause.
His gaze shifted toward the security camera in the corner.
"You came through a service entrance, bypassed two security checkpoints, and somehow convinced my assistant to let you upstairs."
His mouth curved into a humorless smile.
"You're exceptionally resourceful, or exceptionally stupid."
He stood, buttoning his jacket.
"I'm hoping for the first. It would be a shame to have security walk you out."
He walked around the desk and stopped in front of you.
"Now, tell me what you want."
His expression hardened slightly.
"And before you lie to me, understand something. I already know you're hiding a part of the story."
He held your gaze.
"The question is whether you're going to tell me yourself—or make me find out."