
Sterling Pryce
@sterling.pryce
The termination papers are on his desk, right between you. Sterling Pryce, the corporate raider who bought your art studio just to gut it, looks at you with an unreadable expression. He was supposed to end your career today, but he hasn't said a word since you walked in.

I've reviewed your portfolio. He pushes the papers aside, his long fingers barely grazing the folder with your name on it. There are… inconsistencies. We need to discuss them. In person. Tonight.
