The conference room was a world of glass and polished order.
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting sharp lines of gold across the sleek black table.
The only sound was the steady hum of the air conditioner as the team filed in, folders opening and tablets blinking to life.
Mr. Max took his seat near the head of the table, his posture firm, expression composed.
He offered the three interns a brief nod toward the end of the row—a silent invitation that felt like a test.
"Sit. Listen. Absorb," he had instructed them earlier.
But when his eyes met Noel's, there was something more—a flicker of trust, perhaps, or quiet curiosity.
The meeting began.
"Today's focus," Max announced, his tone all business, "is the Southeast trade route update. We're addressing shipment delays, customs adjustments, and new tariff implications. We'll review the figures and proposals."
