Page 40 of The Mourning Throne
“Just call me Gabriel. Thank you for complimenting the location you’re planning to dismantle by end of week.”
“I wouldn’t saydismantle, it’s more of a restructuring—”
“Firing over half of my staff sounds like destruction, Lex.”
“We’ll keep who’s necessary and replace the rest,” Morgan said, and he didn’t even give Gabriel the good grace to shake hands for fuck’s sake. He sat down in one of the high-backed chairs like it was alreadyhis.
“You can review the severance package and decide if it’s not enough. We’re happy to adjust.”
Lex leaned back in the chair, crossing one knee over his leg. “We want to make this as painless as possible, for everyone involved.”
“I appreciate the thought,” Gabriel muttered, but he didn’t look like he believed a single word coming out of Lex’s mouth. His eyes narrowed as he finally sat, the tightness in his shoulders never relaxing.
“You two have quite the reputation.”
Morgan paged through the manila envelope on the desk. He shuffled the top paper down, too loud in the loaded air. “We do our best.”
“There’s a couple companies that’ve referred to DVC as the executioners.”
Oh god, the irony was almost too much.
Morgan’s head snapped up, his mouth twitching in that half-smile before he wiped his free hand over it. “Honestly, I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended.”
“Neither was intended. I’m…” Gabriel trailed off, licking his lips. “I’ve known some of these people for years.”
“We’re not here to rip apart your life, Gabe—”
“Gabriel, please.”
“Gabriel, I’m sorry.” Lex had to remind himself to smile, even though his cheeks were starting to hurt. The damn fluorescent lights above buzzed like they knew a storm was coming. “We’re here to save it. I know what it looks like on paper, but almost every company we’ve worked with has reported better numbers than the prior year.”
“Almost?”
“Some,” Lex took a breath, weighing the words carefully, “some are too far gone by the time we look into them. Bad books, downturns, high CAC… the list goes on. They were already dead in the water before we touched them.”
Morgan flipped over another page.
“But that’s not the case here,” he said. “Your numbers are painfully lackluster. Nothing we can’t fix.”
Gabriel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know our performance hasn’t been up to par lately, but I—”
“It’s not your fault,” Lex jumped in, shooting Morgan a look. “Sometimes all it needs a fresh pair of eyes. We’ve seen it all before, trust me. We’ve seenworse.”
Gabriel didn’t look convinced, but he also didn’t argue any further. Instead, he gestured to the papers on the table. Resigned. Reluctant. Like he already knew how this would end.
“Then let’s get this over with.”
While Morgan and Gabriel were talking particulars over paperwork, Lex had almost nodded off.
Twice.
Oops.
His chin had dipped forward once—just once—and then again, slower, like gravity had it out for him personally. The suit was too warm. The low hum of the overhead lights, the rustle ofpages, the occasional drag of Morgan’s pen—it all blurred into something soft and lulling.
Morgan nudged his arm, and that was all it took. Lex sat up straighter, rubbed at his eyes, and decided he needed atonof caffeine. More than humanly necessary. Maybe enough to resurrect a corpse.
The coffee poured, thick and dark. Not the same color as blood—not really—but close enough to remember.
