Chapter 8 - The Shadow of Vance Capital
The winter weeks turned into a cold, steady January. Under Emily’s direction, Bellavere’s revenue increased by twenty percent, driven not by higher prices, but by a new, loyal clientele that appreciated the welcoming atmosphere and the absolute elimination of the hidden fees Vanessa had used to line her pockets.
But on a Thursday afternoon, the peace of the executive office was broken by the arrival of an uninvited guest.
A woman dressed in a pristine white wool coat, her fingers covered in heavy diamond bands, walked into the room without an appointment. Her face was strikingly similar to Julian’s, but her eyes held none of his warmth—they were the cold, sharp blue of an alpine glacier.
"So you’re the waitress Julian turned into a director," she said, her voice dripping with aristocratic disdain as she looked around the office.
"I’m Emily Parker," Emily said, standing up from her desk. "And you are?"
"Victoria Vance," the woman said, sitting in the leather chair without being asked. "Julian’s sister. And the majority trustee of the Vance Family Foundation."
Emily felt a familiar weight drop into her stomach—the same weight she had felt when Vanessa Cole looked down her nose at her. "Can I help you with something, Miss Vance? If it’s about the restaurant budget, the monthly reports are sent directly to the corporate office on the first."
"I don't care about the restaurant budget, Emily," Victoria said, pulling a gold cigarette case from her bag, though she didn't light one. "Bellavere is a toy to Julian. A small distraction he bought to keep himself busy while he grieves his late wife. But Vance Capital is currently negotiating a six-hundred-million-dollar development project with the city of Chicago for the South Harbor docks. We cannot have our family name associated with street corruption, mafia bosses, and... former service workers running our operations."
Emily kept her hands steady against the surface of her desk. "The street corruption has been cleared from this building, Miss Vance. And as for my background, I’ve spent three years learning exactly how this room works from the bottom up. I know what the customers want because I’m the one who serves them."
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"You serve them food, Emily," Victoria sneered, standing up and stepping closer to the desk. "You don't serve their interests. My brother has a soft heart for a sob story—he always has. But the family council is meeting tomorrow morning in New York. We are reviewing Julian’s recent acquisitions, including this block. If we find that his personal... relationship with the staff is interfering with our corporate valuation, we will vote to remove him from the managing trusteeship."
She walked toward the door, her heels clicking loudly against the hardwood floor. "Enjoy your apartment while you can, Miss Parker. The winter doesn't last forever."
