Chapter 83 - 82 A Costly Mistake
Stupidity is a highly entertaining spectator sport.
I lean against the cool mahogany wood of a floor-to-ceiling wine rack. The second floor of Bordeaux 101 offers total privacy for VIP clients. It also offers excellent hiding spots. I peer through the narrow gap between two dusty bottles of vintage Merlot. The dim, golden light from the crystal chandeliers illuminates the secluded corridor perfectly.
Julian Thorne stands ten feet away. His expensive burgundy suit still looks perfectly pressed from this angle. And from here too, I can almost smell his desperate ambition. I can see it in the squaring of his shoulders and how he fidgets with his fingers impatiently. Chloe Vance crowds the space right beside him. Her tight red designer dress leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. Her acrylic nails dig into the thin leather strap of her expensive clutch.
They have completely trapped an elderly man against the flocked silk wallpaper. The man wears a faded, shapeless gray uniform. A plastic nametag hangs crookedly on his chest pocket. He clutches a damp white terrycloth rag in his gnarled, wrinkled hands. He looks absolutely terrified.
Julian bows his head slightly. He adopts a tone of pure, unadulterated reverence. "Dr. Grayson. It is an absolute privilege to finally make your acquaintance. Professor Chase speaks highly of your genius."
I press my bandaged hand over my mouth. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing out loud. They genuinely think this random elderly man is the creator of SN1818. They saw Dr. Aris speaking kindly to him earlier and jumped to the most absurd conclusion possible.
The old man shakes his head violently. "You have the wrong person. I am not Dr. Grayson. I just need to get to the utility closet."
Chloe steps closer. She blocks his escape path. She flashes a sickly sweet, entirely fake smile. "We completely understand your need for secrecy. Professor Chase told us you prefer a low profile. Dressing so plainly is a brilliant disguise. You are truly a master of misdirection."
The old man blinks. His milky blue eyes dart back and forth between them. He smells faintly of industrial lemon bleach and stale coffee. "I clean the floors. Please move out of my way."
Julian chuckles. The sound is patronizing and slick. "Your humility is truly inspiring. But we need to discuss business. You are currently considering a partnership with Victor Sterling. That is a massive mistake."
I lean closer to the wine rack. My pulse jumps slightly. Julian is actually trying to sabotage my corporate negotiations while talking to a janitor.
"Sterling Pharmaceuticals is a sinking ship," Julian continues smoothly. He adjusts his crisp silk tie. "Victor Sterling picked a personal war with the Monroe family. The Monroes control the entire state. They will absolutely crush his business. He will drag your revolutionary medical formula down into the dirt with him."
Julian leans forward. He rests his hand on the wall right next to the old man’s head. "Thorne Medical offers complete stability. We offer safety. We have the infrastructure to make you a billionaire."
The sharp click of low heels echoes down the hallway. A waitress in a crisp black uniform rounds the corner. She carries a silver tray tucked under her arm. She stops dead in her tracks when she sees the bizarre standoff.
"Mr. Hanson," the waitress says. She frowns at Julian and Chloe. "There is a massive spill in the men’s lounge. We need a mop right away."
Julian freezes. His hand drops slowly from the wall.
Chloe turns her head. Her perfectly contoured face scrunches up in pure confusion. "Why are you calling Dr. Grayson by a fake name?"
The waitress stares at Chloe like she has grown a second head. "That is Henry Hanson. He is the restroom janitor for the VIP dining area. Why are you bothering our cleaning staff?"
The absolute silence that follows is beautiful.
I watch the realization hit Chloe. It does not arrive softly. It crashes into her like a speeding train. She just spent the last ten minutes smiling at a man who scrubs toilets. She practically begged a janitor for a corporate partnership.
The fake sweetness completely vanishes from her features. Her flawless makeup suddenly looks clownish over her bright red, furious skin. Humiliation twists her face into a deeply ugly sneer.
"You lied to us," Chloe screams. Her shrill voice bounces off the crystal chandeliers. "You deliberately deceived me. You let me stand here and talk to you like you were someone important."
"I told you I clean floors," Henry stammers. He holds his white rag up like a shield. I feel sorry for the poor man.
Chloe loses her mind completely. She steps forward and shoves both of her hands violently against the old man’s chest.
Henry is frail. The aggressive push knocks him completely off balance. His rubber-soled shoes slip against the highly polished marble floor. His arms flail wildly in the air. He falls backward toward the sharp edge of a decorative marble pedestal.
I do not think. I simply react.
I shove myself away from the wine rack. My black boots hit the marble floor hard. I sprint across the short distance in two massive strides. I reach out with both of my bandaged hands. I grab the thick fabric of Henry’s gray uniform right at his shoulders.
My right shoulder joint screams in absolute agony. The torn muscles protest the sudden, violent weight. I grit my teeth and brace my boots against the stone. I pull him forward, entirely arresting his backward momentum.
Henry gasps for air. He clutches my black blazer with trembling fingers. I help him stand upright.
I turn my head slowly. I lock my eyes onto my stepsister and my ex-boyfriend.
Julian looks completely horrified. He takes a slow step backward.
Chloe breathes heavily. Her chest heaves against the red fabric of her dress. She glares at me with pure, unadulterated venom.
"What is wrong with you?" I ask. My voice is quiet, but it carries the sharp edge of a razor blade. "You corner a senior citizen. You verbally harass him. And then you physically assault him because your own deduction skills are completely non-existent."
"Stay out of this, Emily," Chloe snaps. She points a sharp acrylic nail at my face. "He purposely misled us. He wanted to feel important."
"He told you his exact job description," I reply coldly. I keep my body positioned directly in front of Henry. "You just refused to listen because you are entirely blinded by your own desperate greed. You saw Dr. Aris speaking kindly to an employee and your microscopic brain invented a fantasy."
I reach into my trouser pocket. I pull out my sleek smartphone. I tap the screen, bringing up the dial pad.
"What are you doing?" Julian asks. His voice cracks slightly. The arrogant corporate heir is completely gone.
"I am calling the police," I state flatly. I hold the phone up so they can see the bright screen. "You just committed physical assault against an elderly staff member inside an exclusive VIP club. Let us see exactly how fast the authorities arrive. Or better yet, let us see how fast the restaurant owner bans Thorne Medical from this property forever."
Julian pales. The threat of a public scandal registers instantly in his brown eyes. A police report would ruin his pristine corporate image. A ban from Bordeaux 101 would destroy his ability to network with the city elite.
He reaches out and grabs Chloe by the wrist. His grip is hard and unforgiving.
"Let me go," Chloe protests. She tries to yank her arm free.
"Shut up," Julian hisses at her. He does not look at her. He keeps his panicked eyes completely fixed on my phone screen. "We are leaving. Right now."
He drags her forcefully down the corridor. Her expensive heels scrape clumsily against the marble floor. She stumbles twice, but Julian does not slow his pace. They disappear around the corner, fleeing the scene like complete cowards.
I lower my phone. The screen goes black. I turn my attention back to the elderly man standing behind me.
"Are you injured, Mr. Hanson?" I ask gently. I check his thin arms for any signs of bruising.
Henry shakes his head slowly. His milky blue eyes look at me with profound gratitude. "I am perfectly fine, Miss. Thank you. Those people were completely crazy."
"They are the absolute worst kind of crazy," I agree. I offer him a warm, reassuring smile. "Please go take care of that spill in the lounge. You will never have to deal with them again. I promise."
Henry nods. He clutches his white rag tightly and walks slowly down the hall.
I stand alone in the quiet corridor. The smell of expensive wine and roasted garlic drifts over from the main dining room. I massage my throbbing right shoulder. The physical pain is intense, but a deep sense of satisfaction settles firmly in my chest. Julian Thorne and Chloe Vance just proved exactly how incompetent they truly are. They are their own absolute worst enemies.
I turn around and walk back toward my private dining booth. I have an actual corporate titan to test. Victor Sterling is waiting for me, and I refuse to waste another second on the past.