Chapter 2 - The Price of Arrogance
The silence inside the private room was so thick you could hear the soft clinking of silverware from the outer dining room. Arthur Sterling looked like a man standing on a fraying rope over a deep canyon. His arrogant demeanor had vanished, replaced by sheer panic.
"Mara!" A terrified voice called from outside the curtain.
My mother, wearing her stained white apron and holding a damp cleaning rag, pushed past the velvet drape. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with terror as she saw me standing in the room surrounded by men in dark suits.
"Rory! Oh my god, Rory!" She rushed forward, dropping to her knees and pulling me into her arms, hugging me so tightly I could smell the lemon disinfectant on her hands. "I am so sorry, gentlemen! Please don't hurt her, she's only four! She didn't mean to intrude!"
"Mommy, I gave him your paper," I whispered into her shoulder.
Mara froze. She looked up, her eyes landing on the crumpled ledger sheet in Vincent Kane’s hand. She turned even paler, realizing what I had done.
"Mr. Sterling, I am so sorry," Mara stammered, tears welling in her eyes as she looked at her boss. "I didn't tell her to do this, I swear! We'll leave right now, I won't ask about the money again, just please don't fire me—"
"Mrs. Carter," Vincent Kane’s voice broke through her panic, surprisingly soft and full of strange deference. "Stand up, please."
Mara hesitated, clutching me to her hip, but slowly stood up. She stared at Kane, recognizing the legendary figure every worker in Chicago spoke of in hushed, fearful tones.
"You have nothing to apologize for," Kane said, looking her up and down—noticing her worn, tread-bare shoes and the exhaustion etched deep around her eyes. "Your daughter is braver than most men I employ. She came into this room alone to defend your honor."
Mara looked down at me in absolute shock, her lips trembling.
Kane turned back to Sterling. "Arthur. You owe Mrs. Carter five thousand, four hundred and thirty dollars and thirty cents."
"I'll... I'll write a check right now!" Sterling stammered, reaching frantically into his breast pocket for his pen. "First thing Monday morning, I'll have accounting—"
"No," Kane said flatly. "Not Monday. And not a check. Checks can be canceled. Checks can bounce."
Kane gestured to Gino. Gino reached into his own jacket, pulled out a thick leather briefcase, set it on the dining table, and popped the latches. Inside were stacks of crisp, banded hundred-dollar bills.
Sterling stared at the cash, completely baffled. "Mr. Kane?"
"You are going to pay Mrs. Carter in cash right now," Kane commanded. "From your personal safe in the back office. Five thousand, four hundred and thirty dollars for her back wages."
"Yes! Yes, absolutely!" Sterling nodded frantically, turning toward the back hallway.
"Hold on, Arthur," Kane added, his hand resting on the handle of his walking stick. "We aren't finished counting."
Sterling stopped, his shoulders tensing. "What do you mean?"
"Seventy-seven days of mental anguish," Kane enumerated coolly. "Seventy-seven days of forcing a child to wonder if her mother will eat dinner. Interest on unpaid wages at my personal rate—which is fifty percent per week. Plus damages for insulting a mother in my presence."
Kane looked at Gino, who pulled out a pocket calculator, tapped a few buttons, and showed the screen to his boss.
Kane nodded once. "The new total is fifty-four thousand, three hundred dollars. Cash. You have ten minutes to open your safe, Arthur. If you are one dollar short, I will take ownership of this building before midnight."
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Sterling’s jaw dropped. "Fifty-four thousand?! That's extortion! That's absurd! I don't have that much cash in the building!"
"Then you had better start pulling bills out of your new Mercedes' glove compartment," Kane said, his grey eyes turning to ice. "Nine minutes and fifty seconds, Arthur. The clock is ticking."
