Chapter 6 - The Trap Closes
The color drained from Gavin Vance's face so fast it looked like his soul had been sucked out of his body.
He looked from Mrs. Sterling to me, then back to Mrs. Sterling. His mouth opened, closed, and opened again, resembling a fish gasping for water on a dry dock.
"I... what?" Gavin stammered, sweat instantly beading along his hairline. "M-Mark? That's impossible. Mark was... Mark failed to show up to the client pitch yesterday. He claimed he had an emergency, but in corporate management, we have strict accountability standards—"
"Strict accountability?" Arthur Pendelton, the attorney, stepped forward, his voice booming across the silent floor. "Mr. Vance, do you have any idea who you are speaking to?"
"Mrs. Eleanor Sterling," Gavin whispered, his confidence completely shattered. "The CEO of Sterling Global."
"She is also the majority shareholder of the Apex Investment Group," Pendelton stated coldly, tapping the legal dossier in his hands. "The very fund that financed your expansion, owns eighty-five percent of this building, and holds the convertible debt notes that keep Vance Media solvent. In simpler terms, Mr. Vance: Eleanor Sterling does not just do business with you. She owns you."
A collective gasp echoed across the floor. Brenda covered her mouth with both hands. Todd Miller took three silent steps backward, attempting to blend into the wallpaper and distance himself from his boss.
Eleanor Sterling stepped forward, her cane clicking rhythmically against the stone floor until she stood directly in front of Gavin. Despite her injuries, she towered over him in sheer presence.
"Yesterday afternoon, while I was undergoing surgery at St. Jude's, my private investigator was already working," Eleanor said, her voice dropping to a deadly whisper that carried across the entire room. "I asked for the identity of the young man whose coat kept me warm. When I was told he was an employee at Vance Media, I was delighted. I intended to personally award this agency our fifty-million-dollar global contract as a gesture of profound gratitude."
Gavin’s knees visibly buckled. "Fifty... fifty million..."
"And then," Eleanor continued, her eyes flashing with pure fury, "I received a phone call from one of my contacts on your board. They informed me that twenty minutes after Mark Lawson risked his life to pull an elderly stranger from an inferno, you screamed at him, stripped him of his health benefits, and fired him like a stray dog."
"Mrs. Sterling, please!" Gavin pleaded, his voice cracking into a high-pitched whine. "It was a misunderstanding! I didn't know it was you! If Mark had only told me it was you—"
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"If he had only told you it was *me*?" Eleanor’s voice was suddenly thunderous, shattering the silence of the office. "So if I had been an ordinary mother? A grandmother? A schoolteacher? A waitress? Her life would have been worth sacrificing for a corporate slide presentation?"
Gavin shook violently, unable to formulate a single word.
