The office was a cold shell in an old North End building, the new base of operations for Royal Private Security. The air was saturated with plaster dust and the dull noise of workers remodeling the lower floors.
Lena Rossi and Cassandra sat calmly on rickety armchairs across from a small metal desk. Behind them, about twenty armed Royal men, silent and ready, formed a wall of loyalty.
Facing them was Aaron Jenkins, the Olympus manager who had led the attack on Alfred's Pizzeria. Behind Jenkins, there were only six armed guards, though their arrogance made them seem like sixty.
The conversation began like a business formality, though the atmosphere was as thick as smoke.
"Thank you for coming, ladies," Aaron said, leaning on the desk with a mocking smile. "Although the hospitality of your new headquarters leaves much to be desired."
