Chapter 3 - Champagne, Laughs, and Cheap Secrets
Across town, in the glamorous high-ceilinged ballroom of the Queen Anne Country Club, Vance Mercer was basking in what he believed to be the pinnacle of his upward mobility. Dressed in a bespoke tuxedo paid for on my maxed-out credit card, he held a crystal flute of vintage Dom Pérignon in one hand while his other rested comfortably on the lower back of Chloe Adams, the firm’s twenty-four-year-old junior marketing coordinator.
At the head of the table sat Evelyn Mercer, draped in synthetic pearls and heavy foundation, receiving empty compliments from minor Seattle socialites.
""Darling,"" Evelyn purred, waving a manicured hand dismissively, ""did that pathetic girl ever call you back? I hope she isn't making a scene at the public clinic. The Brooks family always had such dreadfully dramatic blood.""
Vance let out a dismissive snort, leaning down to whisper something into Chloe’s ear that made the younger woman giggle behind her napkin. ""I put my phone on silent, Mother. If she can’t handle a few cramps without turning it into a federal emergency, she isn’t cut out to be a Mercer. Let her sit on a plastic chair in the ER waiting room for six hours. It’ll teach her some humility.""
""That’s my ambitious boy,"" Evelyn beamed, sipping her wine. ""Tomorrow, you need to be sharp. Mr. Sterling’s private board meeting is at nine sharp, and you’re the leading candidate for the Vice President of Asset Acquisitions.""
Vance’s chest swelled with unearned pride. He didn't know that three floors above them, the country club manager had just received a silent, catastrophic directive from the club’s majority owner—a shell company entirely held by Sterling Enterprise Holdings.
Suddenly, Vance’s phone buzzed with an incoming text from his private bank’s automated alert system: Account ending in 4402 has been frozen per regulatory compliance audit.
Vance frowned, staring at the illuminated screen. ""That’s strange.""
""What is it, sweetie?"" Chloe asked, brushing her bare shoulder against his lapel.
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""Nothing. Just a banking glitch. Probably Natalie trying to move savings around again,"" Vance grumbled, his annoyance flaring up once more. He shoved the phone back into his tuxedo pocket, raising his glass toward the room. ""To the future! To promotions, new beginnings, and leaving the dead weight behind!""
The table clinked their glasses in unison, entirely oblivious to the fact that the black-tinted Lincoln Navigators bearing the Sterling corporate crest were already pulling into the valet circle downstairs.
