Chapter 2: The Calm Before the Corporate Storm
Sarah remained on the floor for a heartbeat, her eyes fixed on the jagged glass. She felt the sharp sting of the shards against her skin, but it was nothing compared to the cold fire rising in her chest. She took a breath—deep, steady, and measured. She brushed the broken glass from her wine-stained blazer, her movements so slow and deliberate that the arrogance in Marcus’s eyes briefly flickered into confusion.
She stood up. She didn't look like a victim; she looked like a judge at a sentencing.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Sarah whispered. Her voice was barely audible above the ambient hum of the party, yet it held the weight of a gavel striking wood.
Marcus scoffed, puffing out his chest. "I want you out! Manager! Where is the incompetence in this place?"
Suddenly, the ballroom manager, Mr. Henderson—a man known for his unflappable nerves—came sprinting from the wings. His face was not the usual mask of professional composure; it was grey, sweat-beaded, and visibly trembling. He ignored Marcus entirely, effectively shoving the billionaire aside as if he were a piece of furniture.
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Henderson stopped directly in front of Sarah. He didn't just bow; he folded his entire frame in a gesture of absolute, soul-deep submission, his forehead nearly touching the floor.
"Madam President! Please… forgive this fool!" Henderson stammered, his voice cracking with genuine terror.
