Chapter 5
Half an hour later, I was sitting in a private room at some fancy café.
The place was all low-key luxury, and the air reeked of pricey coffee beans.
My cheap suit felt embarrassingly out of place.
A waiter brought me a coffee and then silently withdrew, closing the door behind him.
Now it was just me, alone in the room again.
I didn't touch the coffee. I just sat there, waiting for the final judgment to be passed.
A few minutes later, the door opened.
Emily walked in.
She had shed the razor-sharp black power suit she wore at the office. Now, she was wrapped in a cream-colored cashmere sweater, her long hair cascading over her shoulders in loose waves.
She looked less like a powerful CEO and more gentle.
But her expression was still as cold as ice.
She sat down across from me and fixed herself a cup of coffee, her every move poised and effortless.
The expensive wooden table was a vast space between us, and the silence stretched on.
I didn't have the patience to play this game.
"Did you call me all the way here just to watch you play barista?" I spoke first, not bothering to hide the edge in my voice.
Her hand, holding the cup, froze in mid-air.
She looked up with a complex mixture of emotions brewing in her eyes.
"You're still angry, Alex."
It was a statement, not a question.
"Should I be happy?" I shot back. "Should I be on my knees, thanking you for the offer of a warehouse job?"
"I know that job was an insult," she said, putting her cup down and looking me straight in the eye. "But it was a necessary test."
"A test?" I echoed, letting out a sharp laugh. "A test of what? How much of a loser I've become? How much crap I'm willing to swallow just to keep my head above water?"
"A test to see if you still have a spine."
Her voice was quiet, but her words hit me like a physical blow.
"If you had accepted that offer, in that situation, it would have meant that thirteen years of being kicked around by the world had finally broken you. A man like that is of no use to me."
I was stunned.
Her words were so far from what I had expected that I didn't know how to react.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"I need a partner, Alex," she said, leaning forward to stare at me. "Someone I can trust a hundred percent. Someone who won't sell me out the second things get ugly. I need a man who sticks to his guns, no matter how much pressure is applied."
She paused, and for the first time, I heard a flicker of exhaustion in her voice.
"I've looked at everyone in Stellar Holdings, and you're the only one I can think of who might fit the bill."
My mind was reeling.
The whole situation was too dramatic.
"So, the whole interview was just a performance?"
"Not entirely," she said, shaking her head. "Paul and the others don't know our history. In front of them, I had to be the ruthless CEO, stricter than usual, even. If I hadn't made an example of you, the second you stepped into this company, you would've been a walking target. They'd see you as my 'inside man' and do everything in their power to bury you."
Logically, what she said checked out.
But the thorn in my heart was still buried deep.
"Then why didn't you just tell me? Why did you have to humiliate me like that?"
"Because I had to be sure," she said, her eyes narrowing. "I had to be sure you were still the same Alex who would risk his own future to help someone else. If I had offered you a high-level position and a huge salary from the start, you might have accepted out of gratitude, or for the money and status. But only when you had nothing, when I had pushed you to your lowest point, would your choice reveal your true character."
She didn't blink as she delivered the final blow deliberately.
"You walked away. You proved you haven't changed. I can work with that."
I stayed silent.
My mind was a chaotic mess of anger, resentment, and a strange feeling of being seen.
I felt like a fool, a pawn in her elaborate game.
"So, the test is over. You're satisfied?" I sneered. "What do you want me to do? Manage all the warehouses for you?"
She ignored my sarcasm.
She pulled a thin manila envelope from her bag and pushed it across the table.
"Take a look at this first," she said.
I hesitated for a second before I reached out, picked up the envelope, and opened it.
It wasn't a contract. It was a stack of documents.
The first page was an ownership chart for Stellar Holdings.
Emily Warren's name was listed with a 34% stake.
But right above hers was another name, Charles Knight, holding a 38% stake.
Below them, a handful of minor shareholders rounded out the list.
I turned to the next page. It was a copy of a financial report. Several areas showing unusual fund movements were circled in red ink, each one representing a staggering amount of money.
The last page was a personnel file.
Charles, male, was 62 years old, the co-founder and current chairman of Stellar Holdings.
In the photo, he wore a gentle, grandfatherly smile, looking for all the world like a philanthropist.
The more I read, the more my stomach twisted into a knot.
This was way beyond ordinary company business. This was about a hostile takeover from within and a massive financial black hole.
I felt like I was seeing something I shouldn't.
I looked up at her, my confusion boiling over.
"This is a life-or-death crisis for Stellar Holdings," Emily said, her voice barely a whisper, but each word landed with the force of a hammer blow. "Charles is trying to force me out and seize total control.
"This file is the proof. I fought like hell to get my hands on it, but I don't have anyone I can trust. I can't risk letting anyone else investigate."
She looked at me, and for the first time, I saw a crack in her armor. She actually looked vulnerable.
"Alex," she said, her voice pleading, "I need you. Just like thirteen years ago, I need you to help me one more time."