Chapter 5 - THE CONFRONTATION IN THE SKY
Victor didn't even flinch.
He slowly straightened up from the table, adjusting his cuffs, and turned to face Richard Caldwell with absolute, terrifying calm.
“Let him through,” Victor commanded the security guards softly.
The guards stepped back immediately.
Richard Caldwell, a broad-shouldered man in his late fifties with thinning silver hair, stormed across the marble floor of the penthouse, stopping six feet from the conference table. His face was flushed with dark rage, his chest heaving under his wrinkled expensive suit.
“You froze my credit lines at National Bank!” Richard shouted, pointing a shaking finger at Victor. “You leaked the Hudson Yards loan default terms to the press! My stock dropped thirty percent in three hours!”
“You're loud, Richard,” Victor noted coldly, not moving an inch. “This is a place of business, not a construction site.”
Richard’s furious eyes suddenly darted to me sitting at the head of the table. His expression shifted into absolute contempt.
“Is this her?” Richard sneered, stepping toward me. “Is this the little waitress who’s ruining my forty-year business legacy over a spilled glass of water and a ruined jacket? How much do you want, girl? A hundred grand? Half a million? Name your price and sign a non-disclosure agreement before one o'clock!”
Before Richard could take another step toward me, Victor moved.
In a fraction of a second, Victor closed the distance between them, grabbing Richard by his lapels and shoving him backward against the heavy glass wall overlooking the city skyline.
The loud impact of Richard’s back against the glass echoed through the penthouse.
Arthur and the legal team didn't even move a muscle, standing by as if this were completely standard procedure.
“Touch her or speak to her in that tone again,” Victor whispered into Richard’s ear, his voice so quiet it was terrifying, “and I won't just destroy your company. I will buy your primary residence in the Hamptons and turn it into a shelter for abused workers.”
Richard gasped, his hands clawing at Victor’s wrists, his eyes wide with absolute, primal fear. For the first time, the billionaire real estate mogul realized he was completely outmatched.
“Victor... please,” Richard choked out, his arrogance crumbling. “Ethan made a mistake! He’s young, he was drunk—”
“He is twenty-eight years old,” Victor interrupted coldly, releasing his grip on Richard’s coat. Richard stumbled forward, coughing as he straightened his tie. “He is an adult who physically assaulted a woman because he thought his last name made him untouchable.”
Victor walked back over to my side, placing a protective hand on the back of my leather chair.
“If you want to save any portion of Caldwell Properties from total liquidation,” Victor stated smoothly, “Ethan will attend the one o'clock press conference. He will stand in front of every news camera in New York, read a formal public apology written by my legal team, and surrender his executive position at your firm permanently.”
Richard stared at Victor, his mouth trembling. “You’re ruining my son’s life!”
“Your son ruined his own life when he shoved Anna to the floor,” Victor replied coldly. “You have two hours to bring him here, Richard. If he isn't standing on the podium at one PM, I sign the foreclosures.”
Richard looked at Victor, then looked at me. For the first time, he saw that I wasn't just a nameless waitress anymore. I was backed by the most powerful man in New York.
Without another word, Richard turned on his heel and walked frantically back toward the private elevator.
I looked up at Victor, my chest filled with a strange, overwhelming mix of awe and profound relief.
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“Will Ethan actually show up?” I asked softly.
Victor looked down at me, a subtle, warm smile gracing his face. “He doesn't have a choice, Anna. People like him only learn when you cut off their air.”
