Chapter 4 - The Unmasking
The corporate headquarters of Apex Property Solutions occupied the top three floors of the glass-and-steel monolith downtown.
At 2:00 p.m., the lobby was suddenly flooded by forty-seven angry, loudly protesting Hendersons. Frank led the charge, marching up to the sleek reception desk where a young woman in a tailored blazer sat.
"We are here to see N. Vance!" Frank demanded, slamming his fist on the counter. "We are the executive staff of Vanguard, and we demand an immediate audience regarding the unlawful termination of our contracts!"
The receptionist didn't flinch. She simply looked at Frank, then at the massive crowd of angry relatives behind him. She pressed a button on her intercom.
"Mr. Vance’s office? The Henderson group has arrived in the lobby."
A smooth, professional voice responded over the speaker: "Send them up to the boardroom on the 30th floor. Mr. Vance is expecting them."
Frank smirked, turning to his family. "You see? They’re scared of us. They know they made a mistake. Keep your heads high, everyone. We are getting our salaries back, with interest!"
Isabella followed them into the massive glass elevator. As the elevator climbed rapidly, her anxiety grew. She looked at her reflection in the glass, trying to convince herself that everything was going to be fine.
When the elevator doors opened on the 30th floor, they were led by two security guards into a breathtaking boardroom. A massive mahogany table sat in the center, surrounded by plush leather chairs. The walls were decorated with framed architectural designs of major commercial properties across three states.
At the far end of the room, a high-backed leather chair was turned toward the window, looking out at the snowy city.
"Mr. Vance!" Frank barked, stepping into the room. "I hope you have a damn good explanation for this legal circus. You cannot simply dissolve a division without facing a massive wrongful termination lawsuit from forty-seven highly qualified professionals!"
The chair slowly spun around.
The room went so quiet you could hear the soft hum of the ventilation system.
Sitting in the chair was Nicholas.
He was no longer wearing his dusty work boots or his worn jeans. He wore a perfectly tailored, charcoal-gray three-piece suit. His hair was neatly styled, and his posture was commanding, radiating a quiet, dangerous authority. Standing right beside him, holding a folder of legal documents, was Arthur Pendelton.
"N-Nicholas?" Isabella whispered, her voice cracking as she took a step back, her eyes wide with sheer disbelief.
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Frank froze, his mouth hanging open. "What... what are you doing in the owner's chair, you useless grease monkey? Get out before we have security throw you—"
"I am security, Frank," Nicholas said, his voice smooth, low, and incredibly cold. "And I am the sole owner of Apex Property Solutions. Which means, technically, I have been paying your mortgage for the last eight years."
