Chapter 6
1027 Words
That night, in my penthouse apartment, I opened a bottle of '82 Lafite.
On the computer screen was a liquidation spreadsheet I had pulled up overnight.
From the red wine, cigars, and golf memberships paid out of pocket over these three years, to the massive rent difference between the market price of three hundred thousand for this floor of Grade A office space and his dirt-cheap price of fifty thousand.
Item by item, perfectly clear.
Total: Five million dollars.
This was all the blood and sweat Jack Miller had sucked out of me for his pathetic ego. And now, I wanted him to spit it all out, bone and flesh included, not a penny less.
At 10 AM the next morning, West Suburbs, Pinecrest Estate.
Today was the day Jack had dreamed of—the multi-million-dollar exclusive legal counsel signing day—and also the high-light moment he thought would catapult him to becoming a top-tier partner in the state.
Jack wore his most expensive custom suit, his hair combed meticulously. Amy wore a tight designer skirt suit, clinging intimately to his arm like a cheap trophy eager to be shown off.
The two held their heads high, stepping on the red carpet, walking into the estate's imposing outer hall like masters surveying their territory.
The surrounding magnificent decorations and the comings and goings of the rich and powerful swelled Jack's vanity to its absolute peak.
"Jack, we've finally made it to this step." Amy's voice carried irrepressible ecstasy. "Once we sign Ms. Margaret's massive order, we will be the new elites of the entire legal world. As for Selina, she's probably hiding in a basement crying and trying to scrape together that 350,000 right now, like a dead dog."
Jack sneered, adjusted his tie, and strode towards the carved double doors leading to the VIP core area.
"Halt."
Two burly senior security guards blocked the doors expressionlessly, standing like two iron towers.
Jack frowned, pulled out that pure black titanium card he had "confiscated" from me out of his suit pocket, and arrogantly handed it over.
"I am Attorney Jack Miller. I have an appointment this morning for a signing meeting with Ms. Margaret in the VIP room. This is the Centurion Black Card under our firm's asset account. Step aside."
The security guards didn't even glance at the card, their thick arms still barring the way in mid-air.
"Apologies, Mr. Miller. Your entry qualifications have been permanently revoked."
Jack's face instantly froze, then flushed bright red. To be publicly stopped at this critical moment, with a multi-million-dollar client just one door away, was the ultimate humiliation for him.
"What nonsense are you talking about?! This black card has top-tier privileges! If you delay Ms. Margaret's multi-million-dollar contract, can you watchdogs bear the responsibility?!"
Jack roared furiously, trying to rely on brute force to push the guards aside and force his way in.
*Bang—*
A muffled thud.
A guard mercilessly grabbed Jack by the shoulder and shoved him hard.
Jack completely didn't expect the other party to get physical directly. He stumbled, falling heavily onto the shiny marble floor like a broken sack.
"Jack!" Amy screamed, hurriedly crouching down to help him up.
Jack's expensive custom suit was smeared with dust, and his slicked-back hair fell loose, making him look extremely pathetic.
With a cold face, the estate manager walked out from behind the security guards.
"Mr. Miller, please mind your language. This Centurion Black Card is tied to Miss Selina's absolute personal identity information. Without her personal introduction in the flesh, your despicable act of attempting to misappropriate someone else's privilege card gives you zero right to step even one foot into the VIP area."
Sitting on the floor, Jack shouted in exasperation, "What misappropriation?! She used the firm's money to squander and maintain this card; this card was legally confiscated by our firm a long time ago! This is my card now!"
The manager looked at him like he was an i***t, not even having the desire to retort. He just coldly waved his hand, signaling the security to block them out.
At this critical juncture, Jack finally realized that his gangster logic absolutely didn't work in the true top-tier circles. He disregarded all image and dignity, scrambled up from the floor, frantically dug out his phone, and crazily dialed my number.
The moment the call connected, he started cursing outright.
"Selina! You b***h, what tricks did you play with the card?! Get your ass over here right now and explain clearly to security that the privileges of this card now belong to my law firm! Take me in to sign the contract immediately!"
Sitting in the driver's seat of my Ferrari, listening to the extremely shameless roaring on the other end of the phone, a cold smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.
*Beep— Beep—*
I hung up the phone directly.
Outside the estate lobby, the low, roaring sound of a supercar engine approached.
A fiery red Ferrari parked steadily beside the fountain.
The car door opened, and I stepped out elegantly in my high heels.
Amy turned her head and saw me at a glance.
Her panicked face instantly twisted. Like a wild dog guarding its food, she stomped over in her high heels, pointed at my nose, and shrieked harshly:
"You fired, broke stalker! So it was you playing tricks!"
"Are you jealous that Jack is about to become a multi-million-dollar partner, so you shamelessly chased us here to crash the party and ruin things?! I'm warning you, tell the manager right now that this card belongs to us, or I'll have you thrown in jail today!"
However, the very next second, the estate manager, who had just been ice-cold to Jack, came out with two rows of fully armed security guards in a grand procession.
Right in front of Jack and Amy, dozens of burly men uniformly bowed ninety degrees.
"Miss, the VIP area has been cleared for you. Please come in." The manager's deeply respectful voice echoed through the entire lobby.
Watching this scene, the arrogance on Jack and Amy's faces instantly froze.
- Writer
