Chapter 71 A Powerful New Player
Xie Heng’s eyes locked onto hers.
For a moment, no one moved. The afternoon sun was hot. The sidewalk was crowded. Pedestrians streamed past, unaware of the tension crackling in the air.
Then Xie Heng smiled.
It was not a nice smile. It was the smile of a predator who had spotted prey.
"Well, well," he said. "If it isn’t my favorite troublemaker."
Veyra’s hand tightened around the gun in her bag. She did not pull it out. Not here. Not in public. Not with witnesses.
Li Wei stepped closer. His body blocked Xie Heng’s view. "Mrs. Thorne, we should go."
"Go?" Xie Heng laughed. "Where’s the fire? I just want to talk."
"We have nothing to talk about," Veyra said.
"Oh, I think we do." Xie Heng took a step toward her. The thugs behind him shifted. "You embarrassed me. In front of my men. In front of that old woman. I don’t forget things like that."
Li Wei’s hand moved toward his jacket.
Veyra touched his arm. "Not here."
Xie Heng looked around. People were staring. A small crowd had gathered. He noticed.
He raised his voice. "Nothing to see here! Move along!"
The crowd dispersed. No one wanted trouble. No one wanted to get involved.
Xie Heng turned back to Veyra. "You’re lucky we’re in public. But your luck won’t last forever."
He gestured to his men. They formed a wall, blocking the main entrance to the Etland Building.
Veyra’s heart pounded. She needed to get inside. Dr. Harrison was waiting. But Xie Heng was not going to let her pass.
She pulled Li Wei behind a large marble pillar near the building’s corner.
"Is there another entrance?" she asked.
Li Wei’s eyes scanned the building. "The east entrance. It’s around the corner. About a five-minute walk."
"Will Xie Heng know about it?"
"Probably not. He looks like he’s never been inside this building."
Veyra nodded. "Leave a few bodyguards here. Watch him. See what he does. The rest come with me."
Li Wei spoke quietly into his earpiece. Two bodyguards peeled off and melted into the crowd. The others followed Veyra.
They walked quickly around the corner.
The east entrance was smaller than the main entrance.
A glass door. A security desk. A bank of elevators. No crowds. No Xie Heng.
Veyra let out a breath.
"We need to get to the 101st floor," she said. "Bordeaux 101."
Li Wei led her to the sightseeing elevators. The doors were glass. The cables were visible. The cars rose and fell along the exterior of the building.
They stepped inside. Li Wei pressed the button for the 101st floor.
The elevator began to rise.
Veyra watched the city shrink below her. Cars became ants. People became dots. The river gleamed like a silver ribbon.
Her mind churned. What did Xie Heng want with Dr. Harrison? Why had he knelt? Why had he called him "Old Gao"?
She thought about the way Dr. Harrison had looked at Xie Heng. Cold. Disdainful. Like he was looking at something disgusting.
They knew each other. That much was clear.
But how? And why?
The elevator doors opened.
Bordeaux 101 was right outside the elevator.
The restaurant was beautiful. Crystal chandeliers. Marble floors. Tables draped in white linen. The air smelled like butter and herbs and expensive wine.
A hostess stood at a wooden podium near the entrance. She was tall. Slim. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun. Her uniform was black and crisp. Her name tag read Clarisse.
Her eyes moved over Veyra.
Head to toe. Slow and deliberate.
Veyra’s clothes were clean but inexpensive. Her bag was worn. She wore no jewelry. No makeup. Her hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail.
Clarisse’s lip curled. Just slightly.
"Good afternoon," Clarisse said. Her voice was polite but cold. "Do you have a reservation?"
"Yes," Veyra said. "Under Dr. Harrison’s name."
Clarisse tapped at her tablet. Her fingers moved slowly. Her eyes stayed on the screen.
"I don’t see a reservation under that name," she said.
Veyra’s heart sank. "He said he had a VIP card. He said reservations weren’t an issue."
Clarisse’s smile was thin. "VIP cards require advance booking. Even for VIPs. Especially for lunch service."
"But I spoke to him this morning. He said—"
"Perhaps your friend made a mistake." Clarisse set down her tablet. "Without a reservation, I cannot seat you. I’m sorry."
She did not look sorry.
Veyra pulled out her phone. She dialed Dr. Harrison’s number.
It rang. And rang. And rang.
Voicemail.
She tried again. Voicemail.
"Maybe he’s in the restroom," Veyra said. "Can we wait inside?"
Clarisse’s expression hardened. "I’m afraid not. Our waiting area is for guests with confirmed reservations."
"It’s just for a few minutes—"
"Ma’am, I have been very clear." Clarisse’s voice rose. "No reservation. No entry. Please step aside. You are blocking the entrance."
Veyra’s cheeks burned. She stepped aside.
Behind her, she heard the elevator doors open. A group of people stepped out. Four of them. Well-dressed. Expensive suits and dresses. Jewelry glittering.
A man in a gray suit approached the podium. "Clarisse. Table for four. Under the name Whitmore."
Clarisse’s face transformed. She smiled. Wide. Genuine. "Of course, Mr. Whitmore. Right this way."
She did not check her tablet. She did not ask for confirmation. She just smiled and gestured.
Veyra watched. Her jaw tightened.
The Whitmore party walked past her. One of the women looked at Veyra. At her clothes. At her bag. She laughed.
"Clarisse," the woman said. "You should really consider a dress code for this place. The view is attracting... undesirable elements."
Clarisse smiled. "I’ll mention it to management."
Another woman in the group turned to Veyra. "The public observation deck is on the 86th floor, dear. Much more in your price range."
The group laughed. They walked into the restaurant.
Veyra stood frozen. Her hands were shaking.
Li Wei stepped forward. His face was red. His fists were clenched.
"I’ll handle this," he said.
"No."
"Mrs. Thorne—"
"No." Veyra grabbed his arm. "If you hit her, we get arrested. If we get arrested, we miss the meeting. If we miss the meeting, Xie Heng wins."
Li Wei’s jaw tightened. "She insulted you."
"I’ve been insulted by better people." Veyra’s voice was calm. "If a dog bites you, can you bite the dog back?"
Li Wei stared at her. Then his shoulders relaxed.
"You have strong mental fortitude, Mrs. Thorne."
"I’ve had practice."
Her phone rang.
Veyra grabbed it. Dr. Harrison.
"Mrs. Thorne," he said. "I’m so sorry. I went to the restroom and left my phone on the table. I just saw your calls."
"It’s okay," Veyra said. "I’m at the entrance. They won’t let me in."
"Won’t let you in?" Dr. Harrison’s voice sharpened. "Why not?"
"They say I don’t have a reservation."
A pause. Then: "Stay right there. I’m coming out."
The line went dead.
Veyra looked at Li Wei. "He’s coming."
Clarisse watched from behind her podium. Her eyes were curious now. She had heard Veyra’s side of the conversation. She was wondering who was on the other end.
The restaurant doors swung open.
Dr. Harrison stepped out.
He was wearing a tailored navy suit. His white hair was immaculate. His posture was straight. He looked nothing like the kindly old doctor who had examined Lily’s neck.
He looked powerful.
Clarisse’s eyes widened. "Dr. Harrison. I didn’t know you were dining with us today."
"I have a reservation," he said. His voice was cool. "Under my name."
Clarisse tapped her tablet. "Yes, I see it now. Table seven. The window table."
"I’m here to pick up a friend."
"A friend?" Clarisse looked around. Her eyes passed over Veyra. "Is your friend here?"
Dr. Harrison turned. He looked at Veyra. He smiled.
"Yes," he said. "She’s standing right there."
He pointed.
Clarisse followed his gaze. Her mouth fell open.
Veyra walked toward them. Her head was high. Her shoulders were back.
Dr. Harrison put his hand on her shoulder. "Mrs. Thorne, this is the friend I was telling you about. The one who developed the cardiac serum."
Clarisse’s face went pale. "Mrs. Thorne?"
"Veyra Thorne," Dr. Harrison said. "Wife of Dorian Thorne. CEO of Zeus Group."
Clarisse’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
"Mrs. Thorne... I didn’t realize..."
"No," Veyra said. "You didn’t."
Clarisse’s hands were shaking. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—the dress code—I thought—"
"You thought I didn’t belong here." Veyra’s voice was quiet. "You looked at my clothes and my bag and my face, and you decided I wasn’t worth your time."
Clarisse said nothing.
"You were wrong."
A tear rolled down Clarisse’s cheek. She wiped it quickly. "Please. Let me show you to your table. Let me make it up to you."
Veyra looked at her. At the fear in her eyes. At the desperation.
She felt sorry for her. Almost.
"Another time," Veyra said. "Today, I’ll sit with Dr. Harrison."
She walked past Clarisse into the restaurant.
Behind her, a man’s voice spoke.
"She’s not Dr. Harrison’s mistress," the voice said. "She’s someone you cannot afford to offend."
Veyra turned.
A tall man in a dark suit stood near the hostess podium. He had sharp features and sharper eyes. He was smiling.
Wesley Wen.