CHAPTER TWO- THE PLACEMENT

Three days later, Aiden sat on his couch, with his laptop open and sitting on the center table. Cold coffee forgotten at his side. He didn't move for hours.

He was lost in thought, thinking about the interviews in his head a hundred times. Every answer, every glance, every syllable that occurred between him and Julian Vince.

“There was something off about him, not only his stare, or the way he speaks like he read your file and your soul.” He thought to himself. It must be the stillness, like he didn't blink unless it was calculated.

And he knew things he shouldn't. Aiden hasn't told anyone about his hesitation to submit the application. So how the hell…

His phone buzzed.

He stretched towards the center table.

VANDERMERE GLOBAL

SUBJECT: JUNIOR EXEC PLACEMENT

His chest was heavy.

He picked up the phone and clicked.

>Dear Aiden Shaw

We're pleased to offer you a position in the VanDermere Global Junior Executive Program. You have been placed in a Strategic Brand Development team under Mr. Julian Vince.

Aiden blinked.

Strategic Brand Development. Julian's Division.

Out of all the departments could have landed in; product design, data interference, consumer insights–they placed in there.

He read it again, twice

Maybe he thought his eyes were misleading him?

This couldn't be a coincidence.

The rest of the email onboarding details, date, expectations, etc. But those words were blurred. Only one name burned in his mind.

Julian Vince.

The following Monday, Aiden stood in front of VanDermere Global’s Headquarters, wearing the only tailored suit he owned, snd black tie knotted too tight and shoes that pinched. The plaza was very wide and gleaming. Everything about the building whispered wealth, power, and efficiency.

He walked through the rotating doors straight into the storm that awaited.

The welcome orientation was sleek and impersonal. Police HR reps explain the benefits and protocols in a perfectly rehearsed rhythm. Out of the 50 Junior execs accepted globally. Only a dozen were placed in the New York headquarters.

Most of them look like they'd walked off a magazine cover. Ivy League alumni. Foreign accent; designer watches, expensive deodorant. Aiden stuck out, and he knew it.

Still, he held his ground. He didn't smile unless he meant it. He introduced himself with confidence, meeting every gaze without blinking.

By 10, they escorted them to their various departments.

“Shaw." Someone called behind him.

He turned.

A woman in a navy blue blouse, shoes so expensive that you'd avoid stepping on them. “I’m Clarissa. Assistant to Mr. Vince, you're with us.”

“Right," Aiden said. "Lead the way.”

She was energetic and silent as she walked through the upper-level halls. Sleek glass, selected art, no distraction. Everything was intentional.

“He's in his office,” she said, stopping at the same glass door Aiden had entered during the interview. “You'll be working directly under him.”

Of course, he would.

Clarissa opened the door.

Julian was behind the desk, bending his head over a screen, typing something fast, with focused attention. He didn't look up immediately.

When he finally did.

His eyes stared directly at Aiden.

Acting like he didn't recognize him. Not a smile. Just a quiet assessment.

“Mr. Shaw," He said

“Mr Vince," Aiden replied

A pause.

"You are very punctual,” Julian said, gesturing to the chair across him.

“I tend to be.”

Another pause.

Julian studied him for a moment and then closed his laptop.

“You will be tracking the two campaigns this quarter. One for our global rebranding partner in Lisbon. The other for an upstart app company based in Seoul. You’ll assist, observe, report. And occasionally present.”

“Present to clients?"

"Only if I trust you.”

Aiden didn't flinch. “Then I guess I'll earn that."

Julian nodded slowly. "That remains to be seen.”

The atmosphere was tight. Neither of them moved.

Julian finally broke it by opening a folder. “Your desk it's outside the office. Clarissa will show you. You'll report to me daily. Any questions?”

Aiden stood. “Just one."

Julian gave a curious look.

"Did you place me in this division?" Aiden asked.

"Personally?”

Julian's face gave nothing away. “The placement process is confidential."

Which wasn't a no.

"Right,” Aiden said. "Thanks for your transparency.”

Julian watched him leave. Aiden on the other hand, felt the heat between his shoulder blades.

His desk was just outside Julian's office, positioned by glass and steel. It was neat. Efficient. No drawers. Just one screen. A fresh notebook embedded with the VanDermere Global logo sat on the left.

He sank into the chair, feeling the full weight of where he was.

He was in. But it didn't feel like victory yet.

He booted up his system, as the welcome screen loaded, someone walked by and dropped a folder on his desk.

He looked up.

Tall, pale skin, sharp grin. The guy was dressed like he was already a creative director.

“Welcome to the thunderdome," he said. “I'm Carter. Consumer analytics. We'll be seeing a lot of each other.”

Aiden raised his eyebrows. “Is that a promise, or a threat?"

Carter's smiled. "Both.”

He walked away without waiting for a response.

Aiden opened the folder, it was a printout of campaign assets and performance breakdowns. First task: auditing the last quarter of Lisbon's rollout strategy.

He got to work.

By noon he was completely buried in numbers. Julian hadn't said a word. But Aiden could feel him behind the glass; typing, observing.

There was something about that office. It was too still. Too… calculated.

At 3 p.m., Clarissa leaned over the low glass between the desks.

“He wants to see you.”

Aiden grabbed his notebook and stepped inside. Julian didn't look up.

“Close the door,” he said.

Aiden did.

Julian finally looked at him. “You've flagged three different inconsistencies in the Lisbon data.”

“Yeah."

"You're not wrong. But you skipped the behavioral targeting logic behind their choice. They weren't guessing. They were testing bounce rates against time-of-day exposure.”

“I figured as much," Aiden said. But it wasn't documented, if it's not documented it's not a strategy, it's an assumption.”

Julian stared at him.

Aiden didn't blink.

Finally, Julian stood up. He moved to the window. For the first time, he seemed… thoughtful.

“You're sharp," he said. "That will get you far. But only if it doesn't make you reckless."

Aiden stepped closer. "Do you want to be compliant or effective?”

Julian turned back. Kept a straight face. As his voice, slightly low.

‘I want someone who knows when to speak and when to listen.”

“I do."

Julian nodded once. "Good, that'll be all.”

Aiden left, but not before he caught Julian watching his reflection in the glass.

The day ended at seven.

As Aiden packed up, Carter passed again, whistling low.

“Still breathing after a full day under Mr. Vince? Impressive.”

“Is he always like that?" Aiden asked.

Carter laughed. "Always calm, cold; like nothing touches him, that guy's a machine.”

Aiden glanced at the office, the door still closed. Lights on inside.

Something about that man didn't feel cold, it felt contained.

As if heat was locked beneath the surface, simmering, waiting for a crack.

And Aiden has the sinking feeling–he’d be the one to make it break.