Chapter 5 - The High Stakes Board Dinner At The Drake
The private dining room at The Drake Hotel was draped in dark oak, gold leaf, and heavy velvet curtains overlooking Lake Michigan.
Five older men in expensive three-piece suits sat around a white linen table, cutting into expensive steaks and drinking aged red wine.
At the head of the table sat Arthur Vance, the seventy-two-year-old majority shareholder who had known Damian’s late father.
When Damian walked inside accompanied by Ren—who was still swathed in his oversized cashmere coat—the room fell instantly silent.
“Damian,” Arthur boomed, raising an eyebrow behind his gold spectacles. “You’re late. And you brought your secretarial staff.”
Damian didn't offer an apology; he smoothly pulled out a plush velvet chair for Ren right beside his own seat at the foot of the table.
“Ren Ashby isn't secretarial staff, Arthur,” Damian said calmly, taking his seat and placing his hands flat on the table.
“She is the senior financial strategist who just uncovered a six-million-dollar maritime discrepancy in our European portfolio.”
The five board members stopped chewing, their eyes instantly shifting from condescension to sharp, greedy focus.
Ren felt five pairs of powerful eyes locking onto her, but she remembered the $412 in her bank account and her mother’s oxygen tank.
She stood up slightly, pulled page fourteen from her leather folder, and placed it smoothly in the center of the table.
For twenty minutes, Ren spoke with absolute, flawless clarity, explaining international trade law, tax offsets, and freight optimization.
Her voice didn't shake once; her points were sharp, concise, and backed by undeniable mathematical logic.
Beside her, Damian sat in complete silence, his dark eyes fixed entirely on her face as she commanded the room of powerful men.
When she finished, Arthur Vance slowly laid his fork down, leaning back in his chair with a slow, impressed chuckle.
“My God, Damian,” Arthur remarked, looking at Ren with newfound respect. “Where on earth did you find her?”
May you like
Damian didn't look at Arthur; he kept his eyes on Ren, a strange, unreadable intensity burning in his grey gaze.
“She found me,” Damian said softly.
Related Stories
