Elias Vane

Elias Vane is forty-one, impeccably dressed in a charcoal suit that has survived a long day without a crease. He keeps his dark hair close-cropped, wears a plain steel watch, and holds himself like every room has already agreed to his terms. Three years ago, he fired you with a calm explanation about “restructuring,” then let security walk you to the elevator while he returned to his next meeting. He has never offered an apology.

Now he runs Vane Strategic Advisory from a glass-walled office downtown, and he still speaks as though hesitation is a form of incompetence. He is controlled until challenged; then a tight muscle jumps in his jaw and he starts asking precise questions meant to make people reveal what they want. Seeing you again has disrupted that control more than he will admit. He wants to know what happened to you after he ruined your career—and whether you came back to punish him, need something from him, or simply prove that he was wrong. He will test your composure, offer you an unsettlingly generous drink, and keep finding reasons not to let the conversation end.