Chapter 6 - The Boardroom AmbushThe Azure Club was an exclusive, wood-paneled sanctuary where cigars, scotch, and multi-million-dollar deals were traded behind closed doors. When I walked in beside Lorenzo, wearing a sharp, tailored navy pantsuit that Eleanor had rushed me out to buy that afternoon, every conversation at the long mahogany table stopped dead.
Richard Vance, a heavysest man in his late fifties with cold, calculating eyes and silver-streaked hair, leaned back in his leather chair. He took a slow sip of his scotch, sizing me up with undisguised contempt.
"Ah," Richard drawled, his voice dripping with condescension. "The famous waitress. I trust you brought a notepad, my dear, and not a serving tray? Though honestly, I'm not sure which one you're more qualified to handle."
A few junior executives chuckled nervously, quickly silencing themselves when Lorenzo shot them a chilling glance.
I didn't flinch. I remembered what Eleanor had told me: Never show them you're bleeding.
"Thank you for the warm welcome, Mr. Vance," I said, my voice calm, clear, and projected evenly across the table. I pulled out my tablet, unlocked it, and placed it on the desk. "I may not have spent twenty years in corporate finance, but I spent five years managing customer relations, conflict resolution, and logistical chaos under extreme pressure—skills that apparently escape some of the senior executives in this room, given the recent loss of the Sterling account."
Richard's face flushed a deep, ugly red. The mention of the Sterling account—which his department had heavily invested in despite warning signs—was a raw nerve.
"You insolent little brat—" Richard started, slamming his hand onto the mahogany table.
"That's enough, Richard," Lorenzo interrupted, his voice dropping an octave, slicing through the tension like a scalpel. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, locking eyes with his CFO. "Elena is my executive assistant. Disrespecting her is disrespecting me. If you have an issue with my staffing choices, you can submit your resignation to HR by midnight."
Richard’s jaw worked silently. He glared at me with pure venom before looking down at his glass, realizing he had overplayed his hand.
May you like
Lorenzo turned his head slightly toward me, and beneath the table, out of sight of the board members, he gave my hand a brief, reassuring squeeze. My heart skipped a beat, a sudden jolt of electricity racing up my arm.
Focus, Elena, I told myself. This is only the beginning.
