Chapter 9 - The Carver Rule
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At 4:00 P.M., Margot arrived at Elias Carver’s primary headquarters—a restored brick warehouse along the Cuyahoga River that overlooked the dark, churning waters of the East Bank.
She walked into his third-floor office. Heavy oak bookshelves lined the walls, and a large tactical blueprint of Cleveland’s waterfront lay stretched across a glass conference table.
Elias was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, smoking a thin cigar.
"Your sister-in-law was brave today," Elias remarked without turning around.
"Dana isn't my sister-in-law anymore," Margot corrected him, setting Dana’s flash drive on the glass table. "And she did it because she’s tired of watching Trevor destroy everything he touches."
Elias turned around, exhaling a thin trail of blue smoke toward the high wooden rafters.
"Tell me something, Margot," Elias said, walking over to the table. "Why did you wait until he slapped you to fight back? You knew about the drainage fraud two weeks ago."
Margot looked at him calmly.
"Because until last night, I thought I could save the project from the inside without destroying my life," she admitted. "I thought if I fixed his permits, he would see my value."
"A common mistake," Elias said, his tone devoid of judgment. "People believe loyalty earns respect from weak men. It doesn't. Weak men only respect fear."
He tapped his finger on the glass table.
"Tonight, Trevor and Briana are hosting an emergency investor dinner at the Union Club to secure an extra five million dollars in bridge financing. They think you are hiding in a hotel room, crying into a pillow."
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Margot smiled—a cold, sharp expression that made Elias’s eyes glint with quiet approval.
"I’m not hiding," Margot said. "I’m going to that dinner."
