Chapter 2 - The Billion-Dollar Speaker Call
The vibration of my phone seemed to amplify the absolute stillness that fell over the dining room. Grant’s smirk was carved deep into his face, an expression of pure, unadulterated arrogance that begged to be shattered. Celia leaned forward, her eyes locked onto my hands with predatory fascination, eager to witness my humiliation.
I didn't rush. I deliberately picked up the phone, paused for a fraction of a second, and tapped the speaker button before bringing it near the table.
"David," I said, my voice steady and unreadable.
"Maren, apologies for interrupting your evening," David’s crisp, authoritative voice boomed clearly through the phone's speaker, filling the quiet dining room. "Counsel has confirmed the final condition. The escrow arrangements were completed yesterday. We need your authorization to make the share transfer effective."
Grant leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest with a theatrical sigh of relief. "Share transfer? Oh, look at us. Sounding like a real businesswoman."
David didn't miss a beat. "Northstar Distribution. Two point four billion dollars. Are we authorized to proceed under the agreed terms?"
Celia’s wine glass stopped halfway to her mouth. The red liquid sloshed dangerously near the rim, but she didn't notice. Her eyes widened, darting from the phone to my face with sudden, jittery suspicion.
I glanced past them toward the living room television, where a financial news channel was quietly playing behind a muted football commercial.
"Yes," I said clearly, looking straight into Grant’s uncomprehending eyes. "Proceed. Send the confirmation to counsel."
"Understood," David replied smoothly. "The public announcement goes live across all major financial wires shortly. Excellent work, Maren. Have a good holiday."
The call ended with a sharp digital click.
Mom laughed nervously, breaking the suffocating silence. "What was that? Maren, what was that phone call about?"
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"Just an acquisition I’ve been working on, Mom," I replied, picking up my fork.
Grant looked at Celia, expecting her to laugh along with his usual running joke about my imaginary empire. But Celia wasn't looking at him. Her face had gone chalk white. She was staring at me with a look of absolute, petrified horror.
