Chapter 91

 

The Maybach sped toward the heart of the city's eastern business district, where skyscrapers rose like a forest of steel, their glass facades gleaming coldly beneath the midday sun.

Sterling Consortium headquarters stood at the very center of it all.

The futuristic twin towers were wrapped entirely in deep-blue glass, rising side by side like two enormous blades piercing the clouds. A vast reflecting pool surrounded the base, merging the building's reflection with the sky. Manicured greenery and silver sculptures lined the plaza while sharply dressed professionals hurried across elevated walkways connecting the square to the main lobby.

Victoria rushed inside and headed straight for the top floor.

She had barely stepped out of the elevator when two executive secretaries politely stopped her.

"Miss Sterling, I'm sorry."

One of them inclined her head.

"The chairman is in a high-level internal briefing. He specifically asked not to be disturbed."

Victoria forced down the anger surging through her chest, her fingers tightening around the handle of her designer bag.

She had been raised from childhood to understand how someone in her position was expected to behave. Throwing a tantrum at corporate headquarters—or trying to force her way into the chairman's office—was out of the question.

"Who's in there?"

Victoria took a breath, keeping her voice calm and composed.

"The chairman's assistants and senior executives," the secretary replied with a professional smile, offering no specific names.

"Fine. I'll wait."

Victoria turned and walked to the spacious VIP lounge on the executive floor, settling onto one of the leather sofas.

Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

It brought no warmth.

She sat perfectly straight, but beneath the sleeves of her clothes, her hands trembled slightly with anger and uncertainty.

Time crawled by.

A full hour and a half passed before the heavy doors finally opened.

Executives began filing out.

These were people whose names regularly appeared in financial news.

"Legal just sent over the report. The antitrust review is basically clear."

"Good. Then proceed under the highest-priority contingency plan. My side can have the funding in place within three days."

"The chairman's office asked about next quarter's Strategic Exploration Fund. Are we still budgeting fifty billion? R&D wants to increase allocations to quantum computing and advanced space materials."

"Confirm the details with the chairman again. He said last time that as long as the direction makes sense, funding isn't the issue."

Several senior executives continued speaking quietly as they headed toward the elevators.

Then they noticed Victoria sitting in the lounge.

Their steps slowed almost imperceptibly.

Of course they knew who she was.

Victoria was still a student and held no substantive position within Sterling Consortium, but she had appeared at a handful of public and corporate events over the years. Given who she was, every senior executive in the building knew her.

Normally, whenever they happened to meet, they treated her warmly.

Today was different.

Victoria couldn't shake the feeling that something in their eyes had changed.

They offered polite nods and continued toward the elevator without stopping.

Victoria quickly stepped toward one of the senior finance executives.

"Excuse me."

The woman stopped.

"Oh, Victoria. You're here."

"Yes. My father..." Victoria carefully chose her words. "Is he in a good mood today?"

"Chairman Sterling has been in meetings all morning." The woman's smile was flawless, her tone gentle. "I don't know the details of what he's dealing with. You should go in and ask him yourself. He should be finishing soon."

She gave Victoria's arm an affectionate pat, yet somehow managed to create distance at the same time.

Then she turned gracefully and entered the executive elevator.

Victoria watched the doors close.

The uneasy feeling in her chest deepened.

She turned and spotted the chief strategy officer giving instructions to an assistant.

Victoria approached him.

"Do you have a moment?"

He turned, adjusted his glasses, and greeted her with an even warmer smile—one that somehow felt even more superficial.

"Miss Sterling. Here to see the chairman? He's still inside. We have something urgent to deal with, so we'll be going."

He didn't even give Victoria enough time to ask another question.

With his assistant beside him, he disappeared briskly around the corner.

Victoria drew a slow breath and walked into the enormous chairman's office.

The meeting had not completely dispersed.

Several executives stood around the long conference table, organizing documents from the briefing. Jonathan Reed stood nearby, looking down as he recorded something.

Richard sat behind his broad desk, looking as cold and composed as ever.

A bespoke black suit covered his powerful build, his tie perfectly arranged at his throat.

Even while sitting quietly and reviewing documents, he carried the authority of someone accustomed to making decisions that affected enormous amounts of money and thousands of people.

The room seemed to breathe more quietly around him.

The sound of Victoria's heels reached him.

Richard didn't look up.

He simply turned another page.

"...Dad."

Victoria stared at the man behind the desk, instinctive resistance mixing with the fear she had never entirely managed to overcome.

She forced herself forward.

"I need to speak to you privately."

Only then did Richard raise his head.

His dark eyes settled on her, sharp enough to make every excuse feel transparent.

"Privately?"

His tone was flat.

"Tomorrow. My schedule is full today."

"What about after work?" Victoria pressed. "Half an hour. I only need half an hour."

After work?

Richard thought of a certain spoiled little fox waiting for him at home.

"...I'm busy."

"All right."

Victoria clenched her teeth.

"If you won't give me time, then I'll ask you here."

Her voice trembled despite her efforts to control it.

"Were you the one who ordered Legal to send those clarification letters?"

She stepped forward.

"I want to know why. Did I do something wrong? Is there a financial flaw in my investment plan? If there is, you could have told me. Why did you have to do this?"

The atmosphere in the office seemed to freeze.

The executives who had been organizing documents suddenly became intensely interested in their paperwork. Every one of them looked as though they would have preferred to be deaf—or invisible.

Jonathan's eyelid twitched.

He lowered his gaze.

Richard didn't move.

"Give it to her."

Jonathan immediately understood.

He retrieved a thick file sealed inside a large brown envelope and placed it beside Richard.

Richard picked it up.

Then tossed it toward Victoria.

She barely managed to catch it.

"Read it yourself."

His voice was cold.

Victoria looked at him.

The chill in his eyes made her hands tremble.

She hurriedly tore open the envelope and pulled out the documents and photographs inside.

Her pupils contracted.

The first section concerned Ryan Foster.

At the top were several medical reports and psychological evaluations bearing official seals.

The victim had been sixteen at the time.

He was an ordinary high school student from a working-class family, with no money or influence behind him.

During the bitter northern winter, with temperatures well below freezing, Ryan and his friends had stripped him and locked him on the school rooftop.

Then they poured bucket after bucket of freezing water over him.

His arms, collarbone, and even his thighs had been covered in infected burns left by cigarettes.

The humiliation and abuse continued until the boy finally jumped from the school building.

The final photograph showed a gaunt young man sitting in a wheelchair.

His injuries had left him permanently disabled. He now depended on a catheter, medication, and constant medical care just to get through each day.

Victoria's breathing quickened.

Cold sweat formed across her forehead.

She couldn't bring herself to look directly at some of the photographs. Her fingers shook as she hurriedly turned to the next section.

What she found there was worse.

It was an internal investigative file concerning a fatal traffic collision.

Ryan had been seventeen.

He had no valid driver's license.

Late one night, after drinking, he had driven at high speed.

A young boy had been crossing the street with his parents. He had fallen only a few steps behind them when Ryan's car struck him and threw him more than twenty meters.

The scene photographs were horrific.

The child had died at the scene.