Torn (Lords of the City #1) Read Online Free PDF Page A

to keep everything you see confidential, from the toilet paper rolls in the bathroom to the monster robots in the basement.” He laughed, but I wasn’t sure he was joking.
    Quickly, I flicked through the contract. A non-disclosure agreement was pretty common in business, so I didn’t pay much attention to the jargon as I scanned through it. “Anything else?” I asked as I handed the tablet backed to him, signed and sealed.
    “Just hold out your arm and roll up your sleeve.”
    I did, expecting him to wrap some sort of security bracelet on me, but instead he held a pen-like object against my forearm. Before I could protest, my skin was pinched. “What was that?” I demanded, jerking my arm away.
    “A microchip.”
    “What?” I rubbed my arm, irritated. “I didn’t give you permission to microchip me.”
    “You did. In the contract you just signed. Don’t worry, doll. There’s no side effects, and it can easily be removed when you leave the company. Mr. Stafford insists on it. He likes to be in control. He doesn’t like people wandering the halls of his company who can’t be tracked, possibly lurking where they shouldn’t be. It also expedites the security process. With that microchip, you have access to the elevators. They won’t move unless everyone inside has one.”
    I’d read about Mr. Stafford, the man who had founded the company. He was said to be highly efficient, which I took as code for being a tyrant. I didn’t know what he looked like, but I imagined him to be an intolerant devil who made everyone beneath him dance.
    “What happens if someone refuses?”
    “They’re not allowed in.”
    The microchip made me itch with indignation. I wanted to remove it and march out, but I really needed the job, even if it meant becoming one of Mr. Stafford’s lab rats. “Fine. I’ll play. What do I do now? Do you need a DNA sample or something? Maybe a blood sacrifice?”
    Old Ben chuckled. “I like you, doll. You’ve got pluck.” He minimized my information from the screen. “You’re all set. The elevator will take you to the top floor.”
    “What’s on the top floor?”
    “The gatekeeper. You’ll do fine. I’ve only seen a few people leave crying. Just follow procedure, and you’ll be okay.”
    “Sounds like fun,” I muttered and headed for the elevators, still uneasy with the idea of a microchip in my arm.
    There were no buttons in the elevator. For a moment, I felt the same panic my grandma had when I’d handed her a smartphone for the first time, but thankfully a small huddle of scientists slipped in with me. “Fifth floor,” one of them said, causing the elevator to move.
    I waited until they got off before I meekly uttered, “Top floor.”
    Purple lasers suddenly streamed across the elevator and scanned me as if I were a walking barcode. “Access granted,” the voice of the digital assistant called out, and the elevator lurched upward.
    This thing better not have X-ray vision, I thought, distracting myself from the nerves that made my hands shake. Only those in power occupied the top floors of Chicago’s skyscrapers. It was the same in every city, every empire. Whoever this gatekeeper was, they far outranked me.
    When the elevator doors opened, I was startled by a redheaded young man who stood directly in front of me, so close I could count the freckles across his nose. Finely threaded and creaseless, he was dressed in a black tuxedo and fancy white dress shirt.
    “Good afternoon, Miss Clare,” he said, standing with a confidence that surpassed his years. “Welcome to Stafford Scientific. I’m Peter, the butler. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to your room.”
    “My room?”
    “Where you can prepare for your interview.”
    “Of course,” I responded, trying to sound as if I was accustomed to everything unusual about this place.
    Colossal vault-like doors lined the hall Peter led me down, as if they held giants within. There were no windows in the hall, or people