Chapter 3 - THE GRAND ENTRANCE
Suddenly, the heavy, magnificent white-and-gold double doors at the far end of the ballroom swung open with a resounding crash.
Firm, decisive footsteps echoed sharply against the polished Italian marble floor, commanding the instant attention of everyone inside the room.
Marcus Thorne marched briskly into the center of the grand hall, his navy blue suit fitting impeccably and his silver tie catching the light.
His short dark hair was neat, and his expression carried the grim, unyielding determination of a loyal soldier reporting for duty.
Julian turned around with an irritated scowl, stepping away from the throne to block Marcus's direct path.
"Who invited low-level management into this private gala? Security, remove this pathetic accountant immediately," Julian snapped with a wave of his hand.
Marcus didn't even break his stride, holding up a thick leather-bound folio filled with embossed legal documents.
A sudden, sharp rising brass tone from the string quartet stationed in the balcony pierced the heavy tension in the air.
"You don't have the authority to remove anyone, Sterling," Marcus announced, his voice ringing loud and clear across the vast chamber.
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Julian let out a sharp, dismissive laugh, stepping closer to intimidate the younger assistant.
"I am the managing director of this board, boy. I have every authority in this building," Julian retorted defensively.
