Chapter 5 - The Boardroom Surprise
Twenty minutes later, the heavy oak doors of the Belmont Logistics boardroom swung open.
Richard and his six senior executives shot to their feet. They expected to see a team of lawyers.
Instead, I walked in alone.
I hadn't changed my clothes. I still wore the bespoke Armani trousers, but I had discarded the ruined jacket, standing before them in a crisp, white dress shirt that was violently stained with brown espresso across the chest. In my hand, I carried a clear plastic evidence bag containing the soggy, destroyed merger contracts.
The room fell dead silent. You could hear a pin drop on the thick carpet.
Richard Belmont was trembling. His face was the color of spoiled milk. He looked at the coffee stains on my chest, then at the plastic bag, and finally up to my eyes.
"Mr... Mr. Thorne?" Richard stammered, his voice cracking.
"Richard," I said smoothly, taking the seat at the head of the table—his seat. I tossed the plastic bag onto the polished mahogany. It landed with a wet, heavy thud. "I apologize for my attire. I had a slight altercation on my inbound flight. It seems the friendly skies aren't so friendly anymore."
None of his executives knew what was happening. They stared at my stained shirt in absolute bewilderment.
"Mr. Thorne," Richard breathed, rounding the table, his hands clasped together as if in prayer. "Marcus... please. I... I just received a phone call. I am so profoundly, deeply sorry. My wife... she struggles with... with alcohol. She didn't know who you were."
I leaned back in the plush leather chair, steepling my fingers. "That's the interesting part, Richard. She didn't know who I was. Which means her behavior was completely unfiltered. She told me she doesn't sit next to 'people who look like me.' She called me a thug. She tried to strike me."
I paused, letting the silence suffocate him. "Tell me, Richard. Is that the culture of Belmont Logistics? Is that the kind of liability I am buying into?"
"No! Absolutely not!" Richard cried, practically falling to his knees. "She doesn't represent me! She doesn't represent this company!"
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"She invoked your name," I corrected coldly. "She claimed you 'owned' the airline. She weaponized your influence to try and have an innocent Black man arrested for the crime of sitting next to her."
I slid the plastic bag across the table toward him. "Those were our finalized merger agreements, Richard. Now, they are trash. Just like our deal."
