Jayden swallowed hard and stepped inside.
The lobby gleamed with marble floors and modern art sculptures. A chandelier hung above them like a floating galaxy of lights. Jayden tried not to stare, but it was impossible. Everything here felt like a world built out of quiet money, old money, the kind that carried its own gravity.
A receptionist smiled at Elliot. "Good morning, Mr. Mercer. Your conference room is ready."
Mr. Mercer.
Jayden's breath caught. He felt the ground shift beneath him—not literally, but in a way that made his ears ring. He looked up at Elliot, suddenly seeing him in a completely new frame: the calm voice, the sharp eyes, the silver card.
"Mercer," Jayden echoed softly. "As in...?"
"Yes," Elliot said, not slowing his pace. "As in that Mercer."
Jayden nearly dropped his violin. "But you're... you're a billionaire."
"So they tell me," Elliot replied with a shrug that seemed too casual for someone with skyscrapers bearing their family name. "I prefer 'someone who works too much.'"
Jayden blinked rapidly, his mind scrambling to catch up. The Mercer Foundation funded scholarships across the country; they'd been in magazines, news segments, charity galas; Elliot Mercer's face had been on Forbes twice.
And that man had sat across from him in a diner. That man had walked him here. That man had asked him to play music on a cracked violin. Suddenly, the world felt tilted.
They reached a private elevator. When the doors closed, sealing them in velvet silence, Jayden found his voice again. "Why me?" he whispered.
Elliot looked down, a hint of something old flickering behind his eyes—pain, maybe, or memory. "Because you remind me of someone I used to be."
Jayden didn't ask more; some truths were meant to unfold slowly.
The elevator chimed. They stepped into a conference room overlooking the frozen lake, an endless stretch of gray-blue that seemed to reach the horizon. The long mahogany table gleamed beneath lights shaped like glass waves.
A woman in her early fifties stood near the window, her posture elegant, her hair swept into a neat bun. She held a leather portfolio and turned as they entered.