Chapter 81 - 80 A Shattered Ego
[EMILY]
Choosing a business partner feels exactly like loading a revolver and handing it to a complete stranger.
Dr. Aris stares at me across the heavy mahogany table. He looks down at the glowing tablet screen, displaying Victor’s crisp corporate headshot. He looks back up at my face. He grasps the situation completely. The surprise registers in the sudden widening of his eyes.
"Victor Sterling is a ticking time bomb, Emily," Dr. Aris says. He leans forward. He keeps his voice at a harsh, urgent whisper. "Antagonizing the Monroe family is sheer folly. They are an untouchable legacy. They crush their enemies without hesitation. You will be caught in the crossfire."
He opens his mouth to dissuade me further. He studies my rigid posture. He reads the absolute, unwavering certainty in my dark eyes. He closes his mouth and gives a slow, resigned nod. He decides against pushing the issue any further.
I understand his apprehensions perfectly. The Monroe family controls the political and financial sectors of the entire state. Challenging them requires a very specific brand of insanity.
I tap my bandaged finger against the polished wood of the table. "Mere boldness is not enough."
Dr. Aris tilts his head. The silver hair at his temples catches the warm light from the overhead chandelier. "What exactly are you mulling over, Emily?"
"Victor is currently in this restaurant," I say. I formulate a plan on the spot. "I want to meet with him immediately. I need to put him to the test before I sign any binding contracts."
"A test?" Dr. Aris asks. His professional curiosity takes over. "What kind of test?"
I offer him a slow, mysterious smile. I do not elaborate. I want him to just trust me and allow me see this through.
Dr. Aris studies me for almost a full minute before he sighs loudly. He reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out his phone.
"One more time, Miss Emily. You’re sure this is the path you want to go?"
I nod. "Yes, Dr. Aris. I’m sure."
He nods. "I will have my assistant notify Victor right now. He will also send out the official rejection notices to the other four candidates."
Dr. Aris stands up from the plush leather seating. He grabs his wooden walking stick. "I will arrange a private room down the hall for your meeting. Good luck, Miss Emily. You’re really going to need it."
He walks out of the private booth. The heavy velvet curtains fall shut behind him.
I sit entirely alone in the dim, golden light. I gaze at Victor’s digital photograph on the tablet. I trace the sharp lines of his jaw with my eyes. I wonder whether I made the right choice. Partnering with a man at war with a noble family is incredibly dangerous. I drop my hand to my lap. Right or wrong, Victor and I are inextricably bound together now. We are rowing the exact same boat into a massive storm.
[JULIAN]
The night air outside Bordeaux 101 smells of expensive perfumes and stale exhaust fumes.
I stand near the grand glass entrance doors. I take a harsh, desperate drag of my cigarette. The nicotine does absolutely nothing to calm my fraying nerves. My expression is grim. My mood is completely foul. Emily paraded her borrowed VIP status in my face just thirty minutes ago. She acted completely untouchable. She spoke to me with pure, unfiltered disdain.
My phone rings. The sharp digital tone cuts through the ambient street noise.
I pull the device from my burgundy suit pocket. The name, Assistant Zayne, illuminates the bright screen. This is it. This is the official call from the research institute.
I swipe the screen. I force my rigid posture to relax. I inject a tone of eager deference into my voice. "Zayne. Tell me the good news. Are we drafting the preliminary paperwork tonight?"
"Mr. Thorne," Assistant Zayne says. His voice is painfully clinical and incredibly detached. "I am calling on behalf of the Dr. Aris laboratory. The developer has officially selected a collaborative partner for the SN1818 project."
I smile widely. I take another long drag of my cigarette. "Excellent. I knew Dr. Grayson would deliver."
"Dr. Grayson did not select Thorne Medical Corporation," Zayne states.
My facial muscles freeze. The confident smile dies instantly on my lips. My skin turns ice cold. I drop the burning cigarette onto the pristine concrete sidewalk.
"What did you just say?" I ask. My vocal cords scrape together like dry sandpaper.
"The developer chose another enterprise," Zayne replies smoothly.
Cold, venomous fury erupts in my veins. The heat rushes straight to my head, pounding aggressively against my temples. I clench my free hand into a tight fist. My trimmed fingernails bite deep into my palm. I suppress the violent, overwhelming urge to smash my phone against the nearest marble pillar.
"Who did they choose?" I demand. I force the words through tightly clenched teeth.
"President Sterling," Zayne says. "From Sterling Pharmaceuticals."
The line goes dead.
Victor Sterling. The man who mocked me in the hallway just not too long ago. The man who looked at me like a piece of dirt stuck to his expensive leather shoe.
My entire body shakes with uncontrollable, absolute rage. The blatant injustice chokes me. I offer the best manufacturing infrastructure in the state. I offer millions in immediate funding. I offer undeniable prestige. Dr. Aris and the developer Dr. Grayson rejected a medical dynasty for a man fighting a losing war.
"Why?" I murmur blankly to the empty street.
The question echoes violently in my skull. The pressure builds dangerously behind my eyes. I cannot contain the massive, destructive explosion tearing through my chest.
I throw my head back. I let out a guttural, deafening roar.
The raw sound rips from my throat like a wounded animal. It shatters the elegant, refined atmosphere of the luxury restaurant entrance entirely.
Several wealthy patrons sitting near the glass doors jump out of their chairs. They scatter away from me in a sudden, uncoordinated panic. A valet drops a set of keys on the pavement. The receptionist at the front desk gasps loudly. She scrambles backward behind her podium and grabs her radio to frantically summon the security guards.
I ignore them all. I want to tear this entire building down to its absolute foundations.
[CHLOE]
The silver elevator doors slide open with a soft, metallic ping.
I step out into the opulent lobby of Bordeaux 101. The air smells of roasted garlic, rich wine, and fresh lilies. I adjust the tight bodice of my red designer dress. I grip my clutch tightly. I make a beeline straight for the front reception desk. The traffic on the ring road was absolutely horrific. I pray I didn’t miss the crucial moment of our victory celebration.
I scan the chaotic, crowded lobby. Waiters whisper nervously near the entrance. A security guard jogs past me.
My eyes lock onto a familiar burgundy suit. Julian stands alone near a massive marble pillar.
A massive wave of sheer delight hits my chest. I found him. We are going to toast our brand new medical empire. I am going to be the most powerful woman in this city.
"Julian!" I call out cheerfully. I walk quickly toward him. My heels click sharply against the polished stone floor.
He turns his head slowly.
I stop dead in my tracks. The eager, triumphant smile slides right off my face.
His expression is completely grim. His dark eyes are dull and entirely vacant. His jaw is locked so tight the muscles twitch violently under his skin. His crisp suit jacket looks rumpled. He looks absolutely wrecked. The icy demeanor radiates from him in rolling waves.
The cold reality drops into my stomach like a heavy lead weight. Dr. Aris did not choose him. We lost the patent.
I close the remaining distance between us. I reach out and touch his rigid forearm. The fabric of his sleeve feels damp with cold sweat.
"Julian?" I ask in a soft, careful voice. "What happened? Did Dr. Aris give you the final verdict?"
He stares at a spot on the wall directly over my shoulder. He breathes heavily through his nose. His chest heaves with barely contained aggression.
"Dr. Aris chose Victor Sterling," Julian says. His tone is low and incredibly hoarse. Palpable reluctance coats every single syllable. He hates admitting defeat out loud.
He shakes his head in absolute disgust. "I would have preferred Mark Flayer. I would have even accepted Barry Brown. Dr. Aris must be completely blind to choose Sterling Pharmaceuticals over our infrastructure."
My hopes crash violently to the floor. Professor Chase promised us a smooth path. I firmly believed his academic assistance made us the absolute frontrunners. A sick, hollow feeling settles in my gut. Something is terribly wrong here. Someone manipulated this negotiation behind our backs.
I need to fix this. I refuse to walk away empty-handed after securing that introduction.
"Did Dr. Aris and Dr. Grayson leave yet?" I ask. I keep my voice perfectly steady.
"No. I don’t think so," Julian replies. He runs a shaking hand through his perfectly styled hair, ruining the part. "He is still somewhere inside the private dining area."
I nod slowly. A new plan forms rapidly in my mind. Professor Chase’s words echo clearly in my memory. Dr. Grayson holds the decision-making power. The final contract is likely not signed yet.
"There is still a chance," I murmur softly. I step closer to Julian. I look directly into his dark, angry eyes. "We just need to change the narrative right now. Do you have a solution?"