ASHER
I can't believe it. I left the message in the group chat at 8:12 a.m.
"Dinner with Dean. Tonight @8 p.m. The Oceania Restaurant. No excuses.
It's almost 11am and still no acknowledgment from any of my brothers. I stare at the three gray check marks beneath their names like they've personally insulted me.
I lock my phone and drop it with a thud on the conference table just as Gregory Vale clears his throat from the head of the boardroom.
"…as I was saying, the youth expansion in South Danvarr is hemorrhaging investor confidence."
The boardroom smells faintly of polished wood and imported coffee. Sunlight filters through the glass walls, cutting across the long table where fifteen men and two women sit in tailored discipline. My father occupies the head seat, posture relaxed, hands folded as if he owns not just the company but the air inside the room.
