Wide redwood doors lined both sides of the hallway, each carved with Jin Corp’s symbol. Lights set in the arched ceiling overhead cast the corridor in a warm, welcoming glow. The setting exuded professionalism, along with wealth and class. You were left with the impression that important tasks were being performed here, and performed well. I scanned the hallway, searching for emergency exits leading into stairwells. We passed one farther down, a nondescript ivory door with a discreet red EMERGENCY EXIT sign lit above it.

We would use those stairs when we were ready to bomb the building. A shiver ran down my spine. The thought of blowing up Jin Corp, creating destruction and mayhem, seemed surreal juxtaposed against this composed and swanky backdrop.

Soft classical music was piped in from the building’s sound system. A small tour group of five people was clustered ahead, led by a woman dressed in a stylish red you suit with a gold sunburst design across the front. Her hair was swept back in a clean bun, and she spoke animatedly, but in soft tones. They had stopped in front of a long display case set into the wall, showcasing the prototypes and styles of Jin suits throughout the years. The tourists’ heads swiveled around, taking it all in.

“The first floor of Jin Corp is open to the public for our investors, business partners, clients, and tourists,” Daiyu said as we walked past the tour group. She smiled and nodded at two women dressed in expensive business attire. They cast curious glances my way, but neither stopped to speak with us. “Tours are conducted daily, but everyone is subjected to a palm scan and background check before entry is allowed.”

Except for me, I thought.

“I’m fortunate to be your personal guest, then,” I said.

Her eyes widened. “Why? Do you have something to hide?”

I laughed, even as my neck grew hot. “I mean, to be able to get a behind-the-scenes tour.”

We walked past a global display of suits sold worldwide, from Los Angeles to London, Mexico City to Cairo. I paused, as a large image on the wall had caught my eye: a younger-looking Jin shaking hands with an Asian man who looked oddly familiar to me. As did the woman standing beside him, wearing a crisp, light blue dress. The caption read: Jin Feiming strikes the largest US deal with Simon Lee to directly import suits into California with a large distribution center based in Los Angeles.

Lee was my mother’s maiden name, and I realized suddenly I was looking at my maternal grandfather. My mother resembled my grandmother in the photograph enough that there was no mistaking it. I had known my mother came from a well-off family, but I had no idea they were part of the truly wealthy buying into the you mentality Jin was selling.

“Jason?” Daiyu said, touching me lightly on the shoulder.