The relentless, chaotic energy of Green City had finally surrendered to the quiet hours of the early morning. Outside the panoramic windows of the Rosea penthouse, a gentle terrestrial rain fell over the metropolis, blurring the neon lights into soft streaks of colour.
Inside the executive suite, the atmosphere was a perfect sanctuary of domestic and intellectual intimacy. The glowing digital monitors of the Synthetic Oracle were dimmed, leaving only the warm amber light of a single desk lamp to illuminate the heavy mahogany workspace.
Boss Solis sat back in his leather chair, his tailored suit jacket discarded hours ago. He wore a crisp white shirt with the collar unbuttoned, holding a steaming cup of dark roast coffee in his hand. He was not reviewing logistics reports or plotting the demise of rival syndicates. He was entirely focused on the beautiful, brilliant man sitting directly across from him.
