Chapter 3 - The Golden Boy's Morning
(Marcus's POV)
Marcus woke up stretching under the expensive silk sheets of his downtown condo. The rain had stopped, and morning sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
He rolled over and smiled. Elena was asleep beside him, her blonde hair spilled across his pillow. Last night had been perfect. He had dropped his pathetic, weeping wife on the side of the road, driven to the upscale steakhouse, and met Elena for drinks. He told her Clara was visiting her sick aunt in Ohio for a few weeks. Elena, desperate for his attention and deeply impressed by his impending promotion to senior partner, hadn't asked any further questions.
Marcus stepped out of bed, feeling invincible. He walked into his master bathroom, admiring his reflection in the mirror. At thirty-two, he was handsome, sharp, and ruthless. He was exactly the kind of man the senior partners at Vanguard Legal wanted at the helm.
He took a long, hot shower, the steam washing away the faint, lingering memory of Clara's infected scent. She would undoubtedly call him crying by noon, begging for forgiveness, apologizing for ruining his evening. She always did. She was weak. And he would ignore her calls for a few days, just to teach her a lesson.
He dressed in his best Tom Ford suit, strapped his Rolex to his wrist, and walked out to the parking garage. His leased silver Audi was gleaming, save for a bit of mud on the lower panels. He made a mental note to have the valet detail it.
When Marcus walked into the glass-walled lobby of Vanguard Legal, the receptionist beamed at him.
"Good morning, Mr. Vance! The senior partners are waiting for you in Conference Room A. It's an emergency meeting."
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Marcus’s heart leaped. This is it, he thought. They’re offering me the partnership today.
He adjusted his tie, threw his shoulders back, and strode toward the glass doors of Conference Room A. He had absolutely no idea that he was walking directly into a slaughterhouse.
