Chapter 10 - The Beggar at the Gate
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Forty-eight hours later, Adrian spent his last remaining credit card balance to buy a first-class ticket to New York.
He didn't care about his company anymore. He didn't care about his reputation. He only knew one thing: if he couldn't get on his knees in front of me and beg for forgiveness, his life was completely over.
At 3:00 PM on Thursday, Adrian stood on the marble plaza outside Vance Tower in Manhattan.
The glass skyscraper soared eighty stories into the cloudless blue sky—a monument to wealth and power that made his entire existence look like a speck of dust.
He smoothed down his wrinkled suit, took a deep breath, and walked through the massive revolving doors into the grand lobby.
The lobby was lined with polished marble, security turnstiles, and six towering guards wearing dark suits and tactical earpieces.
Adrian walked up to the high reception desk, forcing a nervous, desperate smile onto his face.
"Hello," Adrian said, his voice raspy. "I'm here to see Evelyn. Evelyn Vance. I'm her husband, Adrian Cross."
The receptionist didn't blink. She looked at him with cool, professional eyes, then tapped a few keys on her computer screen.
"Mr. Cross," she said politely. "Ms. Vance does not have you on her schedule today."
"You don't understand!" Adrian pleaded, leaning across the desk. "I’m her husband! There was a massive misunderstanding at our home! I just need five minutes with her! Please!"
Two towering security guards stepped up behind Adrian, their presence heavy and intimidating.
"Mr. Cross," the lead guard said, placing a firm hand on Adrian’s shoulder. "You are trespassing on private corporate property. You need to leave the building immediately."
"Get your hands off me!" Adrian yelled, turning around and trying to shove the guard. "Evelyn! EVELYN!" he screamed at the top of his lungs toward the glass elevators. "I'M SORRY! EVELYN, PLEASE!"
The security team didn't hesitate.
They grabbed Adrian by his arms, pinned his hands behind his back, and dragged him kicking and screaming across the grand marble lobby.
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They tossed him out the revolving doors, sending him tumbling onto the hard concrete pavement of 5th Avenue in full view of dozens of pedestrians and news photographers.
Flashes strobed instantly as reporters captured the image of Adrian Cross sprawling in the gutter.
