Chapter 21 - The Private Room
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The VIP lounge was a small, soundproofed room paneled in dark cherry wood, furnished with plush leather armchairs and a small private bar. It was designed for quiet, high-level networking away from the noise of the gala. Tonight, however, it was a finely tuned trap.
Maya walked into the room and closed the heavy door behind Silas. The sudden silence was deafening.
"Very cozy," Silas remarked, inspecting the room with a critical eye. He walked over to the bar and poured himself a glass of neat scotch. "So, Maya. You found Victoria’s little black book. I must admit, I am impressed. She was always a sloppy creature, driven by petty greed rather than grand strategy."
Maya stood in the center of the room, crossing her arms over her chest.
"She was sloppy enough to leave a direct trail of fifty million dollars to your numbered account in Geneva, Silas. Money that was systematically drained from Sterling Enterprises."
Silas took a slow sip of his scotch, entirely unbothered.
"Money is fluid, Maya. Your father lacked the vision to expand into the global shadow markets. I simply took what I was owed when he foolishly forced me out of the company we built together."
"You used Victoria to execute a hostile takeover from the inside," Maya accused, her voice hardening. "You manipulated her, funded her, and helped her cover up my father’s murder by making it look like a heart attack."
Silas raised an eyebrow, a sickening smile stretching across his weathered face.
"Murder is such an ugly word," Silas mused, walking slowly toward her. "Let’s call it an aggressive corporate restructuring. Richard had a weak heart. The stress of the financial ruin I engineered, combined with a little... pharmaceutical assistance in his evening tea... it was incredibly peaceful, really."
Maya felt a tear prick the corner of her eye, but she blinked it away fiercely. He had just admitted it. The monster had finally confessed.
May you like
"You are a monster," Maya whispered.
"I am a businessman," Silas corrected, stepping close enough that she could smell the expensive scotch on his breath. "And so are you, apparently. So, let’s talk numbers. How much of that fifty million do you want to burn that ledger and keep this little family secret between us?"
