Billionaire's Fake Savior: Unmasking The Truth

scrubbing lipstick stains off crystal flutes. The noise in the back of the club was a constant, thumping bass that vibrated through the stainless steel counters and into the soles

x she hadn't been able to train out of her system in the three months she'd been working here. Three months t

hen barked, scanning

he burst capillaries in his eyes, the tremor in his hand. Classic signs of prolonged

to her. He placed the bottle on it. It was a Macallan, 1940. Imogene knew the year without looking

"My shift ended ten minutes ago, Mr.

smelling of stale coffee and stress. "Top floor. Penthouse sui

eeks late, and her landlord had stopped accepting excuses. She untied

corridor. The bass got louder as she approached the floor, but she bypassed the crowd, slipping into the service elevator a

Miller asked, hol

tely," Imo

eld up a simple keycard reader. He swiped a generic, black

been glitching all night. Static interference or something. Hold on." He typed an overrid

nized. The uniform hung loosely on her frame. Her glasses slid down her nose. She pushed them up w

nce grew heavier with every floor. When the doors opened, the air changed. It

ows. It felt less like a home and more like a vault. Imogene walked to the double doo

le

man to finish a phone call. She pressed the button again. Still nothing. Then, a

breath and push

nhattan skyline. The city looked like a circuit board from up here, all electricity and cold logic. From the far

ut. Her voice was swallow

ans

entrance. She would leave the whiskey there and go. She set t

e whispered to

lush carpet near the door, a sensor triggered. A re

nthetic voice announced.

mmed with a finality that made Imogene's heart stut

ded on the wood

tary-grade. She pulled her phone from her pocket. No Service. Of c

n her chest. She wasn't just trapped; she

as

iving area. It was the sound of glass sh

she asked, her

was ragged, wet, and uneven. It

curled around the handle of the silver fruit knife meant for the garnish. S

e darkness of the hallwa

der clipping a tall, abstract metal sculpture. The sculpture wobbled and fe

e strip of moonlig

Cerv

ffee table. The tech genius. The man trying to merge human consciousnes

ed like

pupils blown wide. He was sweating profusely, his hair plastered to his forehead. He looked at her, but he didn't see

he rasped. His v

e hit the locked door. "I'm just

corrected his balance with terrifying speed

ttered. "It's

lun