The silence on the thirty-fourth floor of 55 Hudson Yards was different now.
It was no longer the heavy, arrogant silence of Vance & Sterling, nor was it the tentative, quiet hope of our early startup days. It was the hum of a fully militarized machine.
It was 7:45 AM on Tuesday.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, a crisp, pale winter sun rose over the Hudson River, casting long, razor-sharp shadows across the dark hardwood and brushed aluminum fixtures. The old Vance & Sterling logo had been entirely removed from the frosted glass entrance; in its place, clean block lettering rendered in matte black titanium read:
NEMESIS CAPITAL GLOBAL
I stood at the head of the central glass conference table, wearing a tailored charcoal pinstripe suit with a high-collared white silk blouse
