Chapter 6
The office on the tenth floor was vast, smelling of expensive leather and polished mahogany. Seated behind a massive oak desk was Director Vance, a graying man with stern eyes, and beside him sat Julian, his shin wrapped in a subtle elastic bandage under his tailored trousers. Julian didn't look quite as smug today; a faint bruise shadowed his jawline from the chaos of the gala. "Sit down, Elena," Director Vance said, his voice flat and devoid of warmth. Elena remained standing, resting her hands on the back of the visitor's chair. "I'd prefer to stand, Director," she replied calmly. Vance sighed, clasping his hands together on the desk. "We’ve received a formal complaint regarding your conduct at the charity event this weekend. Assaulting a senior partner is grounds for immediate termination." Julian leaned forward, a thin, rehearsed smile touching his lips. "It's unfortunate, Elena. You're a talented accountant. But your temper got the better of you—just like your daughter's sticky fingers." Elena’s eyes locked onto Julian’s with a dangerous intensity. "Keep my daughter's name out of your mouth, Julian." Vance cleared his throat, raising a hand to restore order. "This isn't about personal grievances. It’s about company liability and professional ethics. Unless you have an explanation for why you attacked Mr. Sterling while he was addressing a theft, I have no choice—" Elena interrupted him, her voice low and steady. "A theft that never happened. And I think we both know who planted that ring."
