Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Execution
Ten minutes later, the grand glass doors of the luxury dealership were locked from the inside. The wealthy clients had been politely—and firmly—escorted out by security, bewildered and snapping photos on their phones. The story was already blowing up on social media: #FerrariMechanicKing.
Inside the glass-walled executive boardroom on the second floor, Julian sat trembling in a leather chair. Across from him sat Leo, still wearing his stained gray work suit, sipping a cup of cheap black coffee. Next to Leo was a battery of high-powered corporate lawyers who had arrived via helicopter in record time.
"Let me lay out the reality for you, Julian," said Arthur Pendelton, Leo’s chief legal advisor, slapping a thick leather-bound dossier onto the glass table. "You physically assaulted Mr. Vance. That is battery. You slandered his reputation in front of fifty high-profile witnesses and multiple camera feeds. That is defamation."
"I apologized!" Julian whimpered, his hands shaking frantically. "I didn't know who he was!"
"Cruelty to a peasant is no less a crime than disrespect to a king," Leo said quietly, gazing out the glass window at the red hypercar sitting on the showroom floor below. "You treat human beings like trash based on what they wear. How many honest, hard-working people have you humiliated in this showroom before today?"
Julian stayed silent, tears streaming down his face.
"I'll tell you how many," Arthur interjected, opening the dossier. "Over the past three years, we have logged twelve formal complaints against you for discrimination, verbal abuse, and illegal commission skimming. You felt invincible because you were the top salesman."
"I brought in thirty million dollars in revenue last year!" Julian blurted out, a desperate surge of arrogance surfacing. "Without me, this showroom bleeds money! You can't just destroy my life over one mistake!"
Leo smiled—a razor-sharp, chilling expression. "Thirty million? Julian, the car you shoved me against costs three point five million. The global development program for that single vehicle cost four hundred million. You are a speck of dust on the windshield of this empire."
Leo stood up, tossing his paper coffee cup into the trash bin.
"You're not just fired, Julian. You're blacklisted from the entire automotive industry worldwide. No dealership, no manufacturer, not even a used car lot will ever hire you again."
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"No... please... I have a mortgage! I have a yacht payment!"
"Then I suggest you start applying for bathroom cleaning jobs," Leo said coldly. "After all, you said it yourself—people like us belong there."
