THE CLOSED DOORS The hotel lobby shimmered with polished marble floors, its chandeliers dripping golden light onto well-dressed guests moving like chess pieces across the board of a grand evening. Among them was Victor Hargrove, a powerful businessman whose name alone carried weight in the city’s financial world. His tie was crooked, his forehead damp with sweat, and his fingers fumbled with the buttons of his jacket as if every second conspired against him. Victor’s shoes tapped unevenly as he strode toward the elevator. His eyes darted left and right, as if pursued by shadows no one else could see. A briefcase clutched to his chest trembled in his grip, and his breath wheezed in shallow bursts. When the elevator bell chimed, it felt like a judgment rather than an invitation. The polished silver doors parted, revealing the empty chamber lit in muted amber. He stepped inside with a hesitation that betrayed his fear, pressing the button for the top floor with a trembling hand....