Chapter 3 - THE STERLING THREAT
While the dinner rush proceeded with unprecedented smoothness—partly because every employee in the Pearl Room was terrified of making a mistake under Elias’s watchful eye—things were considerably less harmonious in the private VIP lounge upstairs.
Arthur Sterling, senior member of the Voss Corporation board of directors, sat in a velvet armchair, nursing a glass of twenty-year-old scotch. He was a man in his late sixties with silver hair, expensive tailored suits, and the oily confidence of someone who believed old money gave him the right to dictate everyone else’s lives.
Elias walked into the lounge, closing the heavy oak door behind him. He didn't sit down. He stood by the fireplace, his hands resting in his trouser pockets.
“You’re late, Elias,” Sterling said, not bothering to look up from his drink. “And frankly, your security at the front desk is getting sloppy. I had to wait ten minutes just to get past the hostess.”
“If you wanted prompt service, Arthur, you should have made a reservation like everyone else,” Elias replied, his voice chillingly flat. “What do you want?”
Sterling finally looked up, his thin lips curling into a cynical smile. “I want to talk about your priorities. Rumor has it you spent the afternoon in your private office playing nursery rhyme hour instead of reviewing the acquisition papers for the Michigan Avenue property.”
Elias didn't blink. “Who told you that?”
“Does it matter? The board is watching you, Elias. Ever since your father stepped down, people have been waiting to see if you have the stomach to run this empire. Gossiping about staff and turning your office into a makeshift daycare does not project strength.”
Elias stepped away from the fireplace, closing the distance between them with slow, deliberate steps. When he stopped in front of Sterling’s chair, he towered over the older man.
“Let’s get one thing straight, Arthur,” Elias said softly, every word landing like a hammer on glass. “My father built this company on ruthlessness, and look where it got him—alone in a mansion in Zurich, wondering why none of his children call him on his birthday. I run my empire my way. If I decide to let an employee keep her job, it’s because she earns it. And if you ever poke your nose into my private office again, you won't have to worry about the Michigan Avenue property, because you won't have a seat on this board.”
Sterling’s face turned a mottled shade of red. He stood up abruptly, spilling a few drops of scotch onto the rug. “You arrogant boy! You think you’re untouchable just because your name is on the building!”
“Try me,” Elias whispered.
May you like
Sterling glared at him for five long seconds, realized he was entirely outmatched, and snatched his briefcase off the table. “This isn't over, Elias. The board will hear about this.”
“The board can reach me through my secretary,” Elias said without a trace of emotion. “Good night, Arthur. Watch your step on the way out; the pavement is wet.”
