Julian didn't break down for long.

About a minute later, he wiped his face hard with both hands and looked at Asher. "Sorry. Didn't mean to dump this on you."

"It's fine." Asher squeezed his shoulder once. "Everybody crashes sometimes."

Julian looked down at the floor.

"I can't stay here anymore."

"What?" Asher blinked. "You're quitting?"

Julian shook his head.

"Samuel doesn't want me here."

Asher frowned immediately. "That doesn't sound like him."

Julian shut his eyes.

"He threw me into a live bid yesterday. I tanked it."

Asher opened his mouth, but Julian kept going.

"Interns don't get put on deals like that. Not unless somebody wants them to screw up."

"But if he wanted you gone," Asher said slowly, "why'd he have me set up brand-new equipment for you?"

Julian stopped.

"Well…" He swallowed. "Maybe he thought my old laptop was slowing things down."

"Then wouldn't that help him?" Asher asked. "Makes firing you easier."

Silence.

Because it didn't make sense.

Not really.

"Talk to him again," Asher said. "You're good at this job. Losing you would hurt the team."

Something in Julian loosened a little.

"So…" He rubbed at his eyes again. "I should talk to him?"

Asher nodded toward the office. "He's free for another thirty."

—

Julian splashed cold water on his face in the restroom.

By the time he got back to Samuel's office, the redness had faded a little. Not enough.

"Samuel." He stopped by the desk. "Can we talk?"

His voice gave him away immediately.

Samuel looked at him for a second.

Didn't mention the crying.

Didn't comfort him either.

"Sure."

He stood, crossed to the sitting area by the window, and sat down.

Julian hesitated before following.

"Sit," Samuel said.

Julian sat carefully across from him.

Samuel poured him a glass of water.

"What did you want to talk about?"

"Thanks."

Julian took the glass with both hands. Small sip.

Then:

"Do you still want me here?"

Samuel looked up at him.

"Julian. That's your choice." A beat. "I never planned on letting you go."

Julian forgot to breathe for a second.

Asher had already planted the idea in his head, but hearing Samuel say it out loud still hit hard.

"Then why give me that presentation?" Julian asked quietly. "I couldn't do it."

"I thought you could."

Simple as that.

And somehow that made it worse.

Julian stared down into the water.

"I'm sorry."

His throat tightened again.

Not now.

Absolutely not now.

He forced it back down.

"Can I still fix this?" he asked suddenly. "I want another meeting with Alderbrook."

Samuel's expression shifted slightly. Interested now.

"And what exactly are you planning to say?"

"If Stonebridge could steal the deal once, we can do the same thing back." Julian leaned forward a little. "Apex's proposal was better. I just—" He stopped himself. Started over. "I didn't present it well enough."

He looked Samuel straight in the eye.

"Give me one more shot."

Samuel didn't answer immediately.

Ten seconds. Maybe more.

"Not a bad instinct," he said finally. "But there's no need."

Julian's stomach dropped.

Right.

Too late.

Of course it was.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Stop doing that."

Julian looked up.

"Stop acting like one bad presentation defines your entire career." Samuel leaned back slightly. "People lose deals. It happens."

Easy for him to say.

If Julian had done better yesterday, none of this would've happened.

"Besides," Samuel added, "we didn't lose the deal."

Julian froze.

"What?"

"Presentations matter less than people think." Samuel reached for his coffee. "Alderbrook wanted Apex's infrastructure. The bid wasn't perfect, but it was enough. We're co-leading the IPO with Stonebridge."

Julian stared at him.

"You fixed it afterward?"

"No."

Samuel took a sip.

"They approached us a month ago."

"A month ago?" Julian blinked hard. "Then what was the presentation for?"

"I turned them down initially. Bad structure. Mediocre return." Samuel set the cup down. "Board got involved. They wanted the relationship. I suggested co-underwriting instead."

Julian sat there quietly.

Then it clicked.

The presentation had never been about whether Apex got the deal.

It had only been about selecting the second bank.

And suddenly Samuel's earlier reaction made sense too.

You're my subordinate. Responsibility falls on me.

At the time, Julian had assumed it was corporate bullshit.

Apparently not.

A weird mix of relief and irritation climbed up his throat.

"So I was just there for practice?"

Samuel looked genuinely confused by the question.

"No."

A pause.

"If I wanted somebody to stand there and fill space, I wouldn't have driven across Manhattan to pick you up."

Julian frowned.

"You said you were coming from the airport anyway."

Samuel ignored that completely.

"I thought it would be good experience for you." His gaze flicked briefly to Julian's eyes. "Clearly I underestimated the impact."

And there it was.

To Samuel, this had probably meant nothing.

To Julian, it had been everything.

The anger came rushing back so fast it made his chest ache.

"You could've warned me."

Samuel went still.

"In your world maybe this was some harmless learning opportunity, but I had no idea what was happening." Julian stood up abruptly. "I spent the entire weekend thinking I'd destroyed my career."

"Julian—"

"No."

His voice cracked.

He hated that.

"You don't get it." Julian laughed once. Sharp. Ugly. "You people treat failure like it's character development."

Samuel said nothing.

"Do you know what it took for me to get here?" Julian asked. "I don't have family money. I don't have connections. Nobody catches me if I fall."

His breathing was uneven now.

He kept going anyway.

"I worked for every inch of this. Every grade. Every internship. Every interview." He shook his head hard. "I can't afford mistakes."

Silence.

"I can't."

The room went quiet after that.

Julian could hear his own heartbeat.

Samuel watched him for a long time.

Then, without a word, he held out a handkerchief.

Julian stared at it.

Seriously?

He snatched it anyway and blew his nose into the stupid expensive fabric as loudly as possible.

Samuel didn't even flinch.

Instead he said quietly:

"You're right."

Julian looked up.

"I should've told you the full situation beforehand." Samuel's voice stayed even. "That's on me."

Julian looked away immediately.

An apology didn't magically fix things.

Samuel held out another handkerchief.

Julian ignored it.

Samuel set it down on the table instead.

"I want you to stay," he said. "And I want you on the Alderbrook deal."

After everything that had just happened, that almost felt unreal.

Julian should've backed down.

Should've taken the win.

Instead:

"What if I don't want the deal anymore?"

Samuel tilted his head slightly.

"You don't want the deal," he repeated. "Or you don't want to stay?"

…God.

The man really never missed anything.

"I'm overloaded already," Julian muttered. "I can't keep doing this."

Samuel raised an eyebrow.

"Your workload is that bad?"

"It's insane," Julian shot back. "I haven't left before midnight in weeks."

"You're still handling half the workload of a full assistant."

"And twice the workload of every other intern."

Samuel looked at him for a second.

"So you still want to quit?"

Julian didn't answer immediately.

Then he took a breath.

"I'll stay," he said. "But I want more money."

"How much?"

Julian carefully held up two fingers.

Samuel nodded once.

"Done. I'll double your rate."

Julian blinked.

"Wait."

"Double."

Julian just stared at him.

His fingers slipped against the glass.

He'd been aiming for twenty percent.

Twenty.

Not one hundred.

"That's…" Julian stopped. Tried again. "Seriously?"

"Yes."

Julian sat there looking completely shell-shocked.

Then somehow, impossibly, he pushed further.

"I have two more conditions."

Samuel almost smiled at that.

"Go ahead."

"I can do overtime," Julian said quickly. "Just—not last-minute. And if there's travel, I need warning ahead of time."

"I can't promise that."

Julian's expression fell immediately.

Samuel noticed.

"I understand why you want stability," he said. "But this industry doesn't work that way."

He wasn't wrong.

People here pulled all-nighters like it was normal.

Red-eyes. Two-hour decks. Midnight flights.

Julian still wasn't used to any of it.

"If something urgent comes up again," Samuel said, "I'll tell you as early as I can."

Julian looked at him for a second.

Then nodded.

"Okay."

Samuel leaned back slightly.

"Anything else?"

Julian almost said no.

Then he looked at Samuel properly.

Perfect suit. Perfect posture. Like exhaustion simply bounced off him.

"How do you do it?" Julian asked suddenly. "Work like this all the time."

Samuel seemed mildly surprised.

Then:

"I get tired." A pause. "I'm just used to it."