THE PROXY BRIDE: His bride. Her Secret.
Cassian didn’t break stride as he murmured, "First rule. Never step on the spoon shadows. They mark power hierarchies."
Beyond the lobby, the trading floor roared—a cathedral of chaos where dozens of screens flashed global markets and analysts shouted in six languages. The air hung thick with espresso and adrenaline. Cassian finally glanced at the frenzy, nodding toward a trader frantically adjusting a vintage pocket watch. "We trade in time," he said. "Oil futures, rare manuscripts, even heirloom roses. If it has value, we price it."