Julian spent the entire drive reading the proposal deck.

The IPO client this time was a liquor company.

Mid-sized. Nothing flashy.

Apex Capital usually didn't bother with deals like this.

Market really must've gone to hell lately.

The proposal itself was solid.

Industry trends. Policy analysis. Comparable cases. Post-listing strategy.

Clean work.

By the time Julian skimmed the appendices, the car had already stopped outside the hotel.

Only then did it hit him.

This was a real bid meeting.

Real firms. Real money.

Real consequences.

He stepped out carrying the document bag.

Several sealed kraft envelopes sat inside.

Stamped. Signed.

Final copies.

Inside the conference hall, familiar faces appeared one after another.

Brokerages.

Investment banks.

Even Goldstone Capital had shown up.

One of their analysts recognized Julian and nodded politely despite the competition.

Julian nodded back and hurried after Samuel.

Two seats had been reserved for Apex at the front.

Samuel took one.

Julian automatically moved toward the back row.

"Julian."

He stopped.

"Sit here."

Julian turned slowly.

"…Me?"

"Please."

Flat voice. Impossible to read.

Julian sat down carefully.

"It's just us?"

"Mhm."

Samuel flipped open the proposal package.

"You finished reading it?"

"Yes."

"Anything unclear?"

Julian shook his head.

"Not really."

"Good."

Samuel closed the folder.

"You'll present later."

Silence.

Julian genuinely checked Samuel's expression to see if this was a joke.

Nothing there.

"…Sorry?"

"You read the materials."

Samuel looked calm enough to discuss weather.

"You'll manage."

His pulse kicked hard against his ribs.

"Why me?"

"Amanda had an emergency."

That wasn't what Julian meant.

Not even close.

He was an intern.

An intern.

What the hell was he supposed to do standing in front of a room full of executives pitching an IPO?

"I've never done this before."

His fingers tightened around the edge of the folder.

"I can't."

"Try first."

"I seriously can't."

Heat crawled up the back of his neck now.

Fast.

"This project's too important."

Samuel finally looked at him.

"You work under me."

A beat.

"If something goes wrong, that's my responsibility."

Easy thing to say when you were Samuel Frost.

If this crashed, Samuel would survive just fine.

Julian wouldn't.

And Julian had actually spent the car ride thinking Samuel wasn't that bad.

Unbelievable.

Nobody on earth was more annoying than Samuel Frost.

Unfortunately Samuel had already made up his mind.

A few minutes later, representatives from Lanting Liquor came over to greet them.

Samuel rested a hand lightly against Julian's back and guided him forward.

"This project is being handled by someone directly under me."

The executives immediately understood the implication.

Young.

Personally trained by Samuel Frost.

Worth paying attention to.

One of them smiled and shook Julian's hand.

"Then we're looking forward to Mr. Hale's presentation."

Julian smiled somehow.

Inside his head, numbers and charts crashed together endlessly.

Market share.

Competitor analysis.

Comparable transactions.

Risk disclosures.

Apex's advantages.

Normally he wasn't terrible at presentations.

He just needed preparation.

Structure first. Rehearsal second.

Give him three days and he'd manage.

One day would've been enough.

This?

An hour.

Samuel told him less than ten minutes before the meeting started.

No warning.

No preparation.

Julian could already feel himself spiraling.

And this wasn't some classroom presentation.

Eight-figure. Maybe nine-figure deal.

If there'd been any other option at all, he would've walked out.

Instead he swallowed it.

Hard.

Forced himself to focus.

Too many firms were competing for the mandate, so every presentation got shortened.

Julian barely finished reviewing the opening slides in his head before Apex got called.

His turn.

He inhaled slowly and stood.

Samuel watched him the entire way to the stage.

The conference room went silent.

Mouse clicks echoed sharply through the speakers.

Even without looking up, Julian could feel people staring.

Judging.

Waiting.

The first slide appeared.

Julian started speaking.

His throat stayed tight the whole time.

Still—

he made it through.

No freezing.

No forgotten lines.

No obvious mistakes.

But the presenter before him had been Tang Jun from Goldstone.

Exactly the kind of banker clients loved.

Smooth without trying.

Tang Jun opened with a joke.

Controlled the room immediately.

Professional. Relaxed. Easy to listen to.

People remembered him.

Then Julian walked up right after that.

And Julian was…

fine.

Nothing more.

Too stiff.

Too restrained.

Not enough control over the room.

When he stepped down, polite applause scattered through the conference hall.

Thin.

Brief.

Julian looked toward the executives from Lanting Liquor.

Nobody looked excited.

His stomach dropped.

—

Samuel didn't criticize him on the drive back.

That somehow felt worse.

Julian opened his mouth several times during the ride.

Nothing came out.

By the time he got home, Goldstone had already posted the announcement online.

Tang Jun smiling in the photo.

Project secured.

Apex got nothing.

Julian stared at the screen for a long time.

Then tossed the phone aside and sat heavily on the edge of the bed.

The room stayed quiet.

Several minutes later, pain pulsed sharply against the inside of his thighs.

Right.

The chain.

Julian finally stripped off his dress pants.

Silver metal dug deep into pale skin.

Marks everywhere.

Crossed lines pressed into flesh.

His chest tightened suddenly.

A nine-figure deal.

Gone.

Then anger surged back up all over again.

This was Samuel's fault.

Every bit of it.

If Samuel hadn't forced him onto that stage, none of this would've happened.

Julian grabbed his phone and started searching:

investment banking intern responsibilities

management trainee IPO tasks

junior analyst bidding presentation

Results flooded the screen.

Some trainees participated in major projects.

Sure.

But leading presentations?

Almost never.

Senior management handled client development.

Associates executed.

VPs executed.

Interns definitely didn't stand onstage representing firms at bid meetings.

Julian messaged a few other trainees at Apex.

Their assignments sounded normal.

Research support.

Financial models.

Internal coordination.

Even Leo getting exposure to the Synapse AI IPO already counted as huge.

So why him?

Why did Samuel keep throwing him into situations like this?

Julian opened a recruiting app and updated his résumé immediately.

Top university.

Strong internship history.

New York overflowed with investment banks.

Within twenty minutes he'd already found several openings.

One firm sat in the building next to Apex.

Easy interview.

Easy transfer.

His thumb hovered over Submit.

Stopped.

Apex Capital.

Samuel Frost.

Synapse AI.

One line on that résumé alone could change his life.

Julian dropped the phone onto the bed with a groan.

Then opened the raw footage from this morning's thigh-chain shoot.

Tried editing.

Couldn't focus for more than thirty seconds.

His brain felt packed with static.

Finally he gave up and logged into @WorkIsKillingMe.

Feeling kinda awful tonight.

Can somebody be nice to me for a minute?

The comments came fast.

Comfort.

Encouragement.

People calling him baby.

People telling him not to overthink it.

Julian scrolled through them silently.

It helped a little.

Not enough.

The feeling stayed.

Heavy.

Sharp.

Wedged somewhere under his ribs.

He wanted somebody older.

Somebody certain.

Somebody who could look at the mess in his life and say:

Do this.

Go there.

You're fine now.

For years he'd thought that person would be his father.

That illusion hadn't survived very long.

Julian leaned back slowly against the wall behind his bed and closed his eyes.

A notification appeared just as he was about to log off.

Orca: You okay?