Chapter 5 - The Boardroom Trap
The morning sun broke over the skyline of Seattle, painting the glass towers of downtown in sharp, cold shades of gold. Vance arrived at Sterling Global Headquarters at eight-thirty sharp, impeccably groomed, wearing his sharpest charcoal suit. He wore a smile of triumphant arrogance, exchanging nods with middle managers as he rode the private executive elevator directly to the top floor.
He still hadn't checked on me. He had simply texted his mother that morning: I'll deal with Natalie this afternoon after I lock down the VP position.
The double doors of the grand boardroom swept open. Seated around the massive Brazilian walnut conference table were twelve senior managing directors, all dressed in somber dark suits. At the head of the table, seated behind the executive leather chair, was Warren Sterling.
""Good morning, gentlemen. Mr. Sterling,"" Vance said smoothly, offering an rehearsed, confident smile as he placed his leather portfolio onto the table. ""I’ve prepared the comprehensive quarterly projection for the Pacific Northwest asset expansion. I believe you’ll find the margins exceptional.""
Warren didn't blink. He sat completely still, his fingers steepled in front of his face, his cold gray eyes boring directly into Vance’s skull. The heavy silence in the room stretched until Vance began to shift uncomfortably on his feet.
""Vance,"" Warren spoke, his voice quiet, echoing off the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. ""Before we discuss acquisitions, I have a personal question for you.""
""Of course, sir. Anything.""
""How is your wife?""
Vance’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but his slick facade immediately snapped back into place. ""Oh, Natalie is doing wonderfully, Mr. Sterling. Resting at home. She’s had a bit of fatigue lately with the pregnancy, you know how women can get, but I’ve made sure she has everything she needs. Family always comes first in my book.""
A collective, sickening groan seemed to ripple through the board members. Several of them looked down at their papers in utter disgust.
May you like
Warren slowly leaned forward, sliding a manila folder across the polished wood until it stopped right against Vance’s knuckles.
""Open it,"" Warren instructed.
