(A small, chilling smile)Then you’re already in hell. You just like the air conditioning. The "Good Gospel" isn't about being nice, Julian. It’s about the fact that one day, this house will be dust, and I’ll be the one sweeping it into the wind.
(Muffled)It’s not fair. I did everything right. The merger, the optics… they still cut me out. My own father.
Now, move your feet. I need to get under the sofa.
A sprawling, silent penthouse. The furniture is covered in plastic. ADELA (50s, uniform crisp enough to cut glass) is scrubbing a wine stain out of a white rug. She doesn’t look tired; she looks like she’s winning a war.