Chapter 9 - Returning to the Throne
At 7:30 AM, the elevator doors opened onto the private penthouse level of Vance Tower.
Two of my personal assistants were already waiting in the foyer, alongside my lead stylist and a team of corporate attorneys.
"Welcome home, Chairwoman," they chorused.
I walked through the floor-to-ceiling glass corridors overlooking the awakening city. The meek, compliant woman named Charlotte Hayes had ceased to exist the moment I stepped into this building.
"Helen," I said, addressing my lead stylist. "Get rid of this sweater. I need something that commands an execution."
Twenty minutes later, I stood in the dressing room mirror.
The bruised cheek had been meticulously treated with high-end cosmetic camouflage, rendering it invisible under harsh office lighting. My hair was styled into an immaculate, razor-sharp bob. I wore an emerald-green bespoke Saint Laurent pantsuit, crisp white silk underneath, and four-inch Christian Louboutin stilettos that clicked against the marble like the ticking of a countdown clock.
On my wrist was an Audemars Piguet watch—worth more than the entire Miller estate.
Marcus walked into the room, holding an iPad. "Jonathan Miller, Richard Miller, and their legal counsel just entered the building through the VIP lobby. They are being escorted to the seventieth-floor executive boardroom as we speak."
"Did he ask about me?" I asked, adjusting my collar.
Marcus allowed himself a faint, humorless smirk. "According to our security detail in the lobby, Jonathan was screaming at his mother on the phone when he arrived. Apparently, he woke up, found you gone, and assumed you had run home to cry to nonexistent relatives. He told his mother he would deal with you after he secured the funding."
"He really believes he’s getting that money," I said quietly.
"He believes he's the smartest man in the room," Marcus said. "He told our receptionist that Vanguard was 'lucky to partner with a visionary of his caliber.'"
I picked up the black leather dossier from the vanity.
May you like
"Let's go remind Mr. Miller who owns this room."
***
