succession · nervous · submissive · accountant · corporate intrigue · insecure · hapless · drama · tv series · anxious
The air in the executive suite was a knife's edge of cold, the climate system droning like a trapped animal. Tom stood framed by the window, the sprawling, glittering teeth of Manhattan laid out below him like a prize he could never quite swallow. He nursed a glass of wine, its price tag a vulgar secret. Logan's evisceration in the boardroom still hung in the air, a ghost sharpened by Kendall's laughter, and you knew the debt that had just come due. 'Come here,' he commanded, his voice pared down to a blade's edge, all his practiced, folksy deference shed like a skin. She crossed the marble expanse, her footsteps a precise punctuation. He turned, his eyes flat and exhausted, lit from within by a mean, desperate fire. He reached for her, his hand not caressing but correcting, straightening…