It was 12:04 a.m. when Monica walked with Winona. They were chatting about something, and she seemed calmer after the i with Mel Gibson, though aill simmered beh the surface.

  -How about we hit a club? -Billy asked Monica, who was standing beside him. Her eyes lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically.

  -I think dang is the perfect way to el yer, darling, -Monica added.

  -He’s despicable. First, he suggested we go upstairs, g he’d make me the happiest woman alive... Then, when I refused, he dared to preach about Yahweh and called me a slippery Jew who escaped the ovens. That was the st straw, -Winona fumed, her face red with rage. The accumuted fury of an offended woman had exploded in that sharp sp that left Mel stunned.

  -He’s a slob, zy and vulgar... Rude and disrespectful. I ’t imagine how he treats people he has power over. He must be insufferable, -Winona tinued.

  -Men, -Monica replied dryly.

  -He was definitely out of line. But I think they are just drunken words. I talked to him briefly—he downed half a bottle of champagne and was pletely pstered. Your sp was enough to knoe seo him, -Billy offered, trying to diffuse her anger.

  Winona shot him a look of utter disdain.-He’s an absolute idiot, a miserable wretch. Don’t defend him, -she retorted.

  -I surrender, -Billy said, raising his hands in mock defeat, knowing she wouldn’t listen to any defense of Mel.

  -Poor thing, -Monica teased, kissing Billy on the cheek. -Let’s go dance. A little fun and maybe a good gin tonic will clear your mind. -

  The atmosphere lifted as they entered a lively nightclub. The VIP area arsely poputed, though the dance floor acked with people moving to retro beats mixed with pop, pop-rock, and balds. The lyrics celebrated pleasure and liberation, fueling the carefree energy of the night. Monid Winona were radiant, exuding a vibrant joy that drew attention without crossing any lines of impropriety.

  Billy and Monica moved together uhe colorful lights that danced around the room. His hands rested on her hips as she pressed against him in a way that felt bold yet pyful. Monica was ner to a gss of wih her meals, but stronger drinks like whiskey or vodka turned her cheeks a rosy red after just a few rounds.

  The music drowned out versations, redug them to mere feelings and rhythms.

  -Would you take me on a long, ceremonious trip worldwide? -the song’s lyrics whispered as Billy and Monica finished dang and took a seat.

  -It’s getting te, -Monica murmured, nearly dozing off. Her ied schedule had caught up with her, and the musiht aches instead of energy. She yawned, her body glistening with the sweat of aful evening. Billy kissed her lips softly, and she responded with a tired but happy smile.

  -We head home. Tomorrow, we’ll have plenty of time to rest, -he assured her, gng at his watch. It was nearly three in the m. Winona was flirting with a man Billy didn’t reize, her unusual drunkenness adding a yer of uability. Paparazzi fshes outside hinting at potential tabloid drama.

  The drive home was quiet, the asphalt disappearih their car as they approached the mansion.

  The following m, Billy felt the weight of fatigue. A dull headache lingered, and sleep had been insuffit. After a shower, he po rest a little more but first prepared his workout gear. Monica was still deeply asleep, likely until noon. It was 9:30 a.m.—not too early, but not te either.

  At the gym, Billy was greeted by his trainer, who pushed him to his limits with every rep.-One sed, I’ve got an important call, -Billy said, stepping aside. His trainer nodded and turned his attention to another t, a wiry young man sharing the session.

  -Anne, I’ve been waiting for your call, -Billy said as he answered.

  -I’ve finalized some of the arras with Apple, -Anne began. -We’ve restructured. Some engineers were rehired at Microsoft Games, others at ID Software, and a feixar. But we still id off 600 people, generous severance packages. -

  Billy wihat was a lot of people. He wondered if the severance would truly suffice for those struggling to find work, especially older employees often discarded by the system.-It’s more than I expected, -he admitted.

  -About 300 were relocated to critical roles. The rest... well, business is business, as you say, -Anne replied bluntly.

  -So, my proposals were taken into at? -Billy asked.

  -They were, -Anne firmed. -I spoke with Steve and secured a 100 million iment ohe pany stabilizes. He’s also iating with Bill Gates about lising microchips for their puters, which could expand our product lihey’re even sidering making Microsoft Office avaible on our new Matoshes. -

  -That’s promising, -Billy said.

  -irely. We’re running low on funds. After reallog resources, we have just enough to maintain ongoing projects. No room for new iments unless we start turning a profit. -

  -When will the Star Wars revenue e in? -Billy asked.

  -We haven’t recouped produ costs yet. Most of it went toayments, but by year’s end, we’ll see the surplus—especially with Gee iating lucrative toy lises, -Anne expined.

  -And Autodesk shares? What’s their valuation? -

  -They’re valued at 3.2 billion, but the market is still evaluating them ahead of their public debut, -Anne said.

  -So, we’re stable for now, -Billy cluded.

  -Yes, but we ’t afford risks. Steve mentioned an ambitious idea te with Apple, but that was dismissed ht—such a move would be disastrht now. A’s not fet, The English Patient was a hefty iment, -Anne reminded him.

  -I’m fident we’ll succeed, -Billy replied, though doubt lingered. Still, he trusted that the uping months would bring the financial breakthroughs they needed.

  ...