Chapter 5 - Desperation of the Sterlings
Across town, in the elite residential enclave of Gold Coast, the Sterling mansion was in total pandemonium.
Victoria sat on a velvet sofa, still weeping hysterically, while her father, Richard Sterling, paced back and forth across the Persian rug like a caged beast. Every light in the palatial estate was on. On his mahogany desk, three cell phones were buzzing simultaneously with urgent notifications from supply lines, banking partners, and board members.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?!" Richard roared, slamming his heavy fist onto the desk so hard a crystal glass shattered. "The Moretti Group just suspended our maritime shipping license! By tomorrow morning, our cargo in the Port of Chicago will be impounded!"
"How was I supposed to know?!" Victoria shrieked back, clutching a silk pillow. "She was sitting there like a beggar! In an old woolen cardigan! A billionaire's mother doesn't dress like a thrift-store customer!"
"Vincent Moretti’s mother was an immigrant factory worker before his late father built their first steel mill!" Richard bellowed, his face turning an alarming shade of purple. "Everyone in this city knows Isabella Moretti hates opulence! She spends half her year volunteering at soup kitchens! And you—my arrogant, brainless daughter—threatened to strike her in front of three hundred business leaders!"
Victoria bit her trembling lip, her terror suddenly morphing into bitter, poisonous venom. "It wasn't my fault... It was that filthy little waitress! If that girl hadn't grabbed me and made a scene, nobody would have even noticed! She humiliated me on purpose!"
"The waitress?" Richard stopped pacing, glaring at her with bloodshot eyes. "Who was she?"
"Just some nobody from catering! Her name was Emma something!" Victoria hissed, her fingers digging viciously into the sofa fabric. "She acted like she was some righteous hero. If she hadn't touched me, I would have walked away! She set me up, Dad! She did it to climb the social ladder!"
Richard rubbed his temples, breathing heavily as another phone call lit up the screen—the Chief Executive of Union Bank, likely calling to freeze their credit line.
"Find out who this girl is," Richard muttered coldly. "If Moretti is protecting her, she might be our only angle. If she withdraws her statement or admits she provoked you, we might have grounds to negotiate with Vincent."
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"And if she refuses?" Victoria asked, her eyes narrowing with malice.
"Nobody refuses the Sterlings without paying a price," Richard growled, picking up the receiver. "Find her address. Find her family. Everyone has a weak spot."
