The blinds were half-open, spilling a clean stripe of sunlight across the office floor.
Papers lay neatly arranged on the desk, beside a glass of water and a cup of black coffee that had barely been touched.
Noel stood by the window, scanning through the morning's report on his tablet.
The city stretched beneath him—restless, alive—but his reflection in the glass was composed, deliberate.
"Good morning," came Mr. Max's voice, warm and precise.
Noel turned slightly, offering that calm nod of his. "Good morning, sir. You're early today."
"So are you," Max replied, setting his jacket on the chair. "Though I suppose that's nothing new for you."
Noel smiled faintly. "Old habit. I like to start before the noise does."
Max chuckled under his breath, moving behind his desk. "And yet somehow, you make even the noise sound efficient." He gestured to the seat across from him. "Sit. Let's review the trade projections."
