Chapter 12 - The Ascent
The elevator ride to the penthouse felt like an ascent into another dimension. The service elevator Emma usually took was slow, loud, and smelled faintly of bleach. The executive elevator was entirely silent, paneled in dark mahogany and brushed gold, moving so smoothly she could barely feel the gravity shifting beneath her feet.
She watched the digital numbers climb. 40. 50. 60. PH.
With a soft chime, the doors parted, revealing a private foyer that was larger than Emma’s entire apartment building. A sharply dressed assistant was waiting for her, offering a warm, professional smile.
"Good morning, Emma. Mrs. Lawson is waiting for you in the conservatory. Right this way."
Emma followed the assistant through a set of massive oak double doors. The penthouse was breathtaking. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a panoramic view of the city skyline, the morning sun reflecting off the glass towers. But Emma was too nervous to appreciate the view. She smoothed her black-and-white uniform, feeling acutely aware of her frayed cuffs and scuffed shoes.
They entered a glass-enclosed room filled with lush, tropical plants and orchids. Sitting at a small, elegant wrought-iron table was Margaret Lawson. She was out of her wheelchair today, resting comfortably on a plush sofa, a silver cane leaning against the table beside a pot of steaming Earl Grey tea.
"Emma, my dear," Margaret smiled, her eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. "Please, come in. Sit with me."
Emma hesitated, looking around. "I... I'm not supposed to sit on the furniture, ma'am. It's against protocol."
May you like
Margaret let out a soft, genuine laugh. "When you own the furniture, Emma, you can make the protocols. And today, I am asking you to sit. We have a great deal to discuss, and I insist you have a cup of tea with me."
Slowly, carefully, Emma sat on the edge of the velvet chair opposite the billionaire, realizing that her life had irrevocably changed.
