Chapter 13 - The Backlash
At four-fifteen in the afternoon, the lobby doors flew open with a violent shudder.
It wasn't Brenda. It was Marcus Sterling—Brenda’s husband, and the third-largest outside contractor for Vance Logistics’ maritime division. He was a red-faced, thick-necked operator whose construction firm handled seventy percent of the Great Lakes shipping docks.
He had two private security guards behind him and a fury that bypassed every receptionist in the lower foyer.
"Where is she?" Marcus bellowed, his voice shaking the glass partitions. "Where is the little bitch who put my wife in federal custody?"
The bull-pen went deathly still once more. Maya dropped her stapler, backing up against the wall.
Elena didn't flinch. She set down her logistics spreadsheet on Desk 14B, stood up smoothly, and stepped out into the central aisle. The bruise on her cheek had deepened into an angry violet, stark against her pale skin.
"I'm right here, Marcus," she said, her voice dropping into the cool, unflinching cadence of her mother.
Marcus stormed toward her, heavy work boots clattering on the polished stone, his fists balled into meaty knots. "You think you're cute? You think because your mommy has an empire you can set my wife up for prison? Brenda built this company's shipping line! Without my docks, your cargo doesn't move an inch out of Lake Michigan! You just signed your own bankruptcy papers!"
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Elena didn't retreat an inch. "Your contracts with Vance Maritime were conditional on clean compliance records, Marcus. Section 12, Paragraph B of your vendor agreement."
Marcus laughed in her face, spraying spit. "Compliance? I control the longshoremen! I control the harbor! Evelyn Vance doesn't have the balls to cancel my contract, and neither do you!"
