Chapter 7 - The Gathering in the Grand BallroomBy 7:50 a.m., the Grand Ballroom on the second floor of the hotel was filled with incredible tension.
Over fifty high-ranking individuals sat along the massive polished oak conference tables: department heads, regional operations directors, hotel board members, and senior legal advisors.
At the front table sat Julian Sterling. His tuxedo from the night before was replaced by a tailored charcoal suit, but he couldn't hide the dark circles under his eyes or his nervous, twitching fingers.
Beside him sat Patricia and Karla. Both women wore their front-desk uniforms, trembling visibly, clutching legal notebooks, terrified for their jobs.
"What is this about?" Patricia whispered nervously to Karla. "Is he going to fire us in front of everyone?"
"Shut up," Karla hissed back, her face pale. "If Sterling goes down, he'll take us all with him."
At 8:00 a.m. sharp, the double oak doors at the back of the ballroom swung open.
Ethan Vance walked into the room.
He wasn't wearing his worn leather jacket anymore. He wore a crisp, tailor-made charcoal suit, white shirt, and dark tie—the terrifyingly sharp look of a legendary CEO who controlled a multi-billion-dollar empire.
Beside him walked his brother, Marcus Vance, flanked by four senior forensic accountants carrying thick black leather binders.
Behind them walked Lupita Morales, holding little Lily’s hand. Lily was dressed in a neat floral dress, clutching her stuffed rabbit, looking around the massive room with curious blue eyes.
The entire room stood up out of respect as Ethan walked down the center aisle.
Ethan didn't tell them to sit. He walked straight up to the podium at the front of the room, standing behind the microphone. He gestured for Lupita and Lily to sit in the two plush leather chairs set up directly to his right at the main table.
Ethan placed his hands on the edges of the podium, his piercing grey eyes sweeping slowly across the silent room until they landed squarely on Julian Sterling.
"Welcome to the Grand Regent Chicago," Ethan began, his voice echoing clearly through the sound system. "Nine twelve-year-olds could run a customer service team better than what I experienced in this lobby twelve hours ago. But we are not here today simply because two front-desk clerks were rude to a tired father."
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Ethan paused, letting the silence build.
"We are here today," Ethan declared, "because this hotel is sick from the top down."
