Chapter 2 - The silent signature
A senior lawyer stepped out of the elevator. He was fifty-five, dressed in an impeccably tailored dark suit, his silver hair neatly combed. In his hand, he carried a thick, black leather folder sealed with a heavy clasp.
Celeste spotted him immediately. Her haughty demeanor vanished, replaced by the polished, charming smile of a corporate president. She smoothed down her silver gown and took a step forward, extending her hand.
"Mr. Vance," she said smoothly. "I assume you have the final paperwork from the holding company?"
The lawyer didn't even look at her. He walked right past her outstretched hand, not breaking his stride until he stood directly in front of the waiter with the champagne-soaked shirt.
The rooftop fell utterly silent. The jazz band seemed to fade away. Celeste’s smile froze on her face as she turned, her confusion slowly morphing into a deep, twisting dread.
The lawyer bowed his head slightly and held out the sealed folder.
Daniel handed the empty champagne glass to a passing, terrified busboy. He took the folder, his large hands breaking the seal with a sharp snap that echoed across the rooftop. He pulled out a gold fountain pen from his pocket, flipped to the final page of the heavy document, and signed his name with swift, aggressive strokes.
Once the ink was dry, Daniel snapped the folder shut and handed it back to the lawyer. He reached up, unbuttoned his waiter’s jacket, and slid it off his broad shoulders. He walked over to Celeste, who was rooted to the spot, her breathing shallow.
Daniel draped the damp, cheap jacket carefully over the back of her chair.
Good, Daniel said calmly, his deep American accent cutting through the dead silence. I don’t like people who look down on others either.
Celeste couldn't speak. Her eyes darted from the jacket to the lawyer, and finally to the rugged man standing before her. The arrogant queen of the boardroom suddenly looked very small.
Daniel slowly turned his gaze to the executives gathered around them. They exchanged terrified, panicked looks, realizing they had just spent the last ten minutes laughing along as their new boss was humiliated.
Now let’s discuss who still gets to work here, Daniel said, his voice ice-cold.
A heavy, suffocating panic swept through the crowd. Men and women in expensive suits began stammering, trying to apologize, trying to distance themselves from Celeste. Daniel raised a single hand, and the murmurs instantly stopped.
"Clear out," Daniel ordered. "All of you. Pack your desks by midnight. You're done."
The executives practically tripped over themselves rushing toward the elevators, leaving Celeste standing completely alone in the center of the rooftop. She finally found her voice, her throat tight.
"You... you can't fire me," she stammered. "My contract guarantees a two-year transition period. It would cost you millions to break it."
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Daniel walked slowly toward her, stopping just inches away. He looked down at her shivering frame.
"Who said anything about firing you, Celeste?" Daniel whispered, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. "You're going to stay exactly where you are. Every single day. Until I have what I want."
