Chapter 54 - The Dinner of Serpents
The clinking of crystal silverware against porcelain plates echoed softly through the private dining alcove as the multi-course meal progressed. Every word spoken across the table was coated in polite corporate diplomacy, yet beneath the surface, it was a lethal game of psychological chess.
"Meridian Tech has proven to be a stubborn obstacle in our expansion across Western Europe," Vance noted casually, cutting a piece of Wagyu beef with absolute precision. "Their encryption protocols are remarkably resilient. My superiors are... losing patience."
"Stubborn code is simply code that hasn't been properly dismantled yet," I responded smoothly, taking a slow sip of my water. "Give us forty-eight hours with their primary mainframe architecture, and their security will fold like a house of cards."
Vance’s lips curved into a sharp, approving smile. "I expected nothing less from you, Elena. You have always possessed a rather ruthless efficiency when it comes to problem-solving."
Across the table, Anthony remained silent, his gaze fixed on Vance with an intensity that made the older man’s smile falter for a fraction of a second. Anthony didn't need to speak; his imposing physical presence and razor-sharp reputation were enough to keep the Vanguard director on edge.
"Of course," Vance continued, leaning forward slightly, lowering his voice. "We must ensure that our interests remain strictly aligned. In our line of work, trust is a luxury commodity. One misstep, one unauthorized query into the main database, and the consequences... well, let us just say they extend far beyond professional termination."
It was a thinly veiled threat. A reminder that Maya was still back at the alpine estate, her safety tethered entirely to our absolute obedience.
"You don't need to worry about our loyalty, Mr. Vance," Anthony said quietly, his voice dropping an octave, carrying a chilling weight that silenced the ambient noise around us. "We know exactly who holds the leash."
Vance nodded slowly, seemingly satisfied with the answer, though a shadow of lingering suspicion remained in his eyes. The dinner concluded shortly after, with polite handshakes and empty pleasantries that tasted like ash.
As we stepped out into the cool London night air and climbed back into the waiting Maybach, I exhaled a breath I felt like I had been holding for hours. "He suspects something," I whispered.
May you like
"Let him suspect," Anthony replied, pulling me close as the car pulled away from the curb. "While he's busy watching our front door, we're already picking the lock to his safe."
***
