Chapter 3 - The Price of an Appetizer
The atmosphere inside Le Petit Chateaux, the most exclusive French restaurant in the downtown district, was loud and celebratory. Jasper sat at the head of a long, white-clothed table, a glass of expensive Sauvignon Blanc raised high. To his right sat his mother, Gillian, dressed in a newly purchased silk blouse that Jasper had paid for, and to his left was his sister, Priscilla, who was busy taking photos of her lobster tail to post on social media.
"To the future of Vanguard Tech!" Gillian toasted, her face flushed with wine. "To my brilliant son, who is about to close a fifty-million-dollar funding round with the Apex Group! No more living in that cramped apartment. We’re moving to the hills!"
"Oh, absolutely," Priscilla chimed in, adjusting her designer sunglasses. "And thank goodness we didn't bring Hailey. She would have just sat there looking miserable, complaining about her stitches. Honestly, Jasper, she is so fragile. You'd think she was the only woman in the world to ever have a baby."
Jasper laughed, taking a deep gulp of his wine. "She’s just trying to milk it. My father-in-law is a retired bricklayer or something—they don't understand how high-stress my world is. I have three managing directors from Apex sitting at the corner table right now. They’re watching how I carry myself. I couldn't have a hysterical, pale woman dragging down my image today."
Just as Jasper was about to call the waiter over for the main course, his phone buzzed on the table. It was an alert from his smart-car app.
[WARNING: VEHICLE ENGINE DISABLE INITIATED REMOTELY BY OWNER.]
Jasper frowned, tapping the screen. "What the hell? Must be a system glitch."
Before he could investigate, the heavy glass doors of the restaurant swung open. Two police officers in full uniform stepped inside, followed by a flatbed tow truck driver holding a set of master lockout keys. Behind them stood Thomas, looking immaculate in his charcoal suit.
The restaurant fell into a sudden, hushed silence as the officers walked straight toward Jasper’s table.
"Are you Jasper Thorne?" the lead officer asked, his voice echoing off the high ceilings.
Jasper stood up, his face flushing red as he felt the eyes of the wealthy patrons—including his potential investors from Apex—lock onto him. "Yes, I am. Is there a problem, officer? I'm in the middle of a private family lunch."
"We have a report of an unauthorized vehicle operation," the officer said, pulling out a clipboard. "The black luxury SUV parked in the valet lane, license plate V-LAND-1. The vehicle is registered to Robertson Global Corp. The corporate legal team has filed an emergency recovery order, citing unauthorized use by a non-employee."
Jasper’s jaw dropped. "That’s impossible! That car belongs to my wife! Her father gave it to us!"
"Actually, Mr. Thorne," Thomas stepped forward, his voice dripping with polite venom. "The vehicle was leased under the corporate fleet of Robertson Global for Hailey's personal use. Since you have abandoned her at the hospital and forced her to take public transit, your access to all corporate-sponsored assets has been revoked. Hand over the keys. Now."
"Who the hell are you?" Gillian screamed, rising from her chair, her wine glass rattling. "How dare you interrupt our lunch! My son is a future billionaire! We will have you fired!"
"Ma'am, if you do not sit down, you will be escorted out for obstructing justice," the officer warned her coldly.
Jasper looked over at the corner table. The three managing directors from Apex Group were staring at him, their expressions shifting from curiosity to deep, professional disgust. A startup founder being publicly accused of auto theft in the middle of a high-end restaurant was a public relations nightmare.
"Jasper..." Priscilla whispered, her face pale. "Just give them the keys. We can call a cab."
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With trembling fingers, Jasper reached into his pocket and tossed the key fob onto the table. "This is a joke," he hissed at Thomas. "Tell Hailey she’s dead to me. When Vanguard Tech goes public next month, I will divorce her and leave her with absolutely nothing!"
"Mr. Thorne," Thomas smiled, picking up the keys. "You should worry less about your divorce, and more about whether Vanguard Tech will survive the next ten minutes."
