Diana sat on her velvet throne in the lobby of Sinclair Tower, letting out a long, dramatic sigh.
She looked at the empty chair across from her. She had officially rejected every single applicant. The floor was littered with the crushed dreams and discarded resumes of Ivy League graduates and overqualified trauma nurses.
"I am surrounded by mediocrity," Diana muttered.
She raised a manicured hand, lazily signaling for her designated operative to come collect her. He had already helped her into her wheelchair when...
"Wait! Wait, please!" a high-pitched, girlish voice squeaked from the direction of the barricaded revolving doors. "Am I too late?!"
Diana didn't even bother to turn her head. She kept her gaze fixed on the pristine wall ahead of her, her lips curling into a look of absolute disdain.
