In the window's reflection, Algerone had gone absolutely still. Not the stillness of control but the stillness of a man restraining himself from violence.
"The card saved his life," I said, my voice hard. "Whatever meaning he assigns to it—"
"The card got lucky," Shaw cut me off. "One random inch to the left and your precious employer would have been dead in that warehouse decades ago. And Lucky Losers wouldn't exist. Neither would your career, your purpose, your entire identitywrapped up in serving him." His eyes glittered. "Have you ever thought about that, Maxime? How your whole life depends on one piece of paper being in the right pocket at the right moment?"
Every word sliced. Not because they insulted Algerone, but because Shaw spoke a truth I'd buried for years. If the bullet had landed differently, if the card hadn't been there...
"The past is the past," I managed. "What matters is the future."
"On that, we agree." Shaw's cruel smile softened into something more calculated. "But I wonder if a man so fixated on a lucky card can truly adapt to changing markets. Superstition and strategy rarely coexist well. And you?" he challenged. "Do you share his reverence for cards?"
"I share his results," I deflected. "Lucky Losers has never failed to complete a contract. The name might sound foolish, but the reputation speaks for itself."
"Still," Shaw mused, "I'd rebrand immediately. GidTech sounds like a company. Lucky Losers sounds like a poker game in a backroom bar. And naming your entire enterprise after a card that stopped a bullet?" He chuckled. "It's the corporate equivalent of a grown man carrying a security blanket."
The insult to Algerone's careful symbology tightened my jaw, but I forced a small laugh. "Perhaps you're right. Another example of his... inflexibility."
Shaw leaned back, apparently satisfied with my criticism. "A man who can't adapt his image can't adapt his business. But let's discuss more practical matters." His eyes sharpened. "What are you prepared to offer for this new partnership? A man in your position must have access to interesting information."
I pretended to consider, building tension. The intensity of Algerone’s gaze burned, and my cock leaked against my briefs. My hand moved involuntarily toward my lap before I caught myself. Instead, I gripped the desk edge hard enough to hurt.
But my voice remained steady, professional. "Information serves as currency in our world, Gideon. The question is whether you're offering an equal exchange or expecting charity."
"Always the negotiator," Shaw chuckled. "What would you consider equal?"
"Recent events suggest certain... capabilities," I said carefully. "That level of precision, of execution... it's impressive."
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're referring to." Shaw's smile never wavered.
The denial sounded smooth, practiced. Of course he wouldn't admit anything on an unsecured line.
"Hypothetically," I continued, matching his careful tone, "such capabilities would suggest inside knowledge. The kind of intelligence that takes years to develop."
"Hypothetically," Shaw agreed, "good intelligence forms the foundation of any successful operation. But we're speaking in the abstract. What matters is the future, not the past."
His poker face worked well, but not perfectly. I noticed the slight tightening around his eyes.
"If someone were to change allegiances," I said directly, "they'd want assurance that their new employer could protect them from... repercussions. Algerone maintains a long memory and a longer reach."
"I protect my assets," Shaw said carefully. "All of them."
"Then we should discuss specifics," I suggested. "In person. Where we can speak... freely."
"Agreed. But first, I need something concrete. A gesture of good faith." Shaw's eyes gleamed. "What are you willing to bring to the table? Information that proves you're serious about leaving Lucky Losers."
I pretended to consider his request. "What kind of information?"
"Something useful. Something that demonstrates your access and your commitment."
"Employee satisfaction metrics," I said finally. "Compensation structures. Perhaps some insight into our recent contract negotiations. Nothing operational, just... administrative details that might interest a competitor."
Shaw's smile conveyed pure satisfaction. "Reasonable. Very reasonable. But I'll need more than information, Maxime. I'll need to see you in person. Judge your... sincerity."
"When and where?"
"Tonight. There's a private club I maintain here in Zurich. Discrete. Luxurious. The kind of place where new partnerships can be properly... celebrated."
"Send me the details," I agreed, ignoring my clenching stomach. "I'll be there."
