The top floor of the Mandarin Oriental was reserved exclusively for high-stakes corporate negotiations and visiting dignitaries. The private tea room was a masterpiece of minimalist design, featuring floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a panoramic view of the South China Sea. The glass was cold. Outside, the water was a flat gray-blue. Light came in hard and white and made the room feel bigger than it was. The air smelled like jasmine and clean wood.
I stepped out of the elevator, flanked by two of my private security contractors. The carpet under my shoes was thick. It swallowed every step. The elevator doors closed behind us with a soft, airtight sound. The hallway was quiet. Only the low hum of lights in the ceiling. My suit felt right. The fabric was smooth.
