The emergency board meeting of Renwick Logistics was convened on a rainy Tuesday in the glass-walled conference room on the forty-second floor.

Low gray clouds hung over the skyline; inside, the air was just as heavy.

Conrad arrived thirty minutes early, trying to project his old executive authority — the finest charcoal suit, the hair slicked back, the monogrammed briefcase.

But no tailoring could hide the dark hollows under his eyes or the tremor in his hands as he poured himself a glass of water.

He was no longer the king of the company.

He was a man fighting for his professional life.