Chapter 2 - The Sound of Ice
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Back on the fortieth floor, the string quartet had tentatively resumed playing.
The guests were talking again, but the laughter was brittle. Everyone was watching Paxton Greer out of the corners of their eyes, waiting to see how the king would act after striking his queen.
Paxton stood near the bar, swirling his scotch. He did not look angry. He looked satisfied, like a landlord who had fixed a noisy pipe.
"She’s dramatic," Paxton said smoothly to Delgado, the shipping executive who was still pale from the scene. "Young girls from the South Side get ideas in their heads. Give her two hours in the cold, and she’ll be back on her knees apologizing."
Delgado offered a forced smile. "Of course, Paxton. Now, regarding the Detroit shipping contract—"
Before Delgado could finish his sentence, his personal smartphone vibrated violently in his jacket pocket.
Delgado pulled it out, glanced at the screen, and froze.
"Is there a problem?" Paxton asked, lifting his glass.
"My escrow account," Delgado whispered, his voice cracking. "The four-million-dollar wire for the dock permits... it was just recalled."
Paxton frowned, setting his glass down on the polished marble bar.
"Recalled? That's impossible. Lennox authorized that transfer two days ago."
"It says here the authorizing entity doesn't exist," Delgado stammered, tapping his screen furiously. "The bank flagged the entire company as fraudulent. Paxton, my board will murder me! What is going on?"
Across the ballroom, two more smartphones chimed simultaneously. Then three more.
May you like
The low hum of conversation died again. Waiters stopped mid-step.
In the sudden, suffocating silence of the penthouse, the only sound was the soft, rhythmic crack of ice melting in Paxton’s untouched glass.
