Imperial Red. 2

Any air-conditioned place Luca had ever been in always turned out to be too cold, freezing and unbearably uncomfortable.

But as he sat in the limo, the built-in AC was the mildest he had ever experienced.

The best word for it was chill, a soothing and balanced coolness that neither numbed his skin nor made him wish for a jacket.

He drummed his fingers on the window sill, staring out at the headquarters' premises. Luca was looking anywhere but directly into the eyes of the elderly man seated opposite him and Coastfield.

The elderly man had pale white hair, thin and wispy, barely clinging to his scalp, yet neatly combed back, as if he still cared about appearances.

His skin was frail, sagging around his jaw, and a deep frown line creased his forehead. This was Mr. Almansa, CEO of Nevada HanSama.