Chapter 4 - The Chairman's Uniform
"You?!" Celeste gasped, her voice shrill as she stood up so fast her chair screeched against the floor. "What is this trash doing in the ballroom?! Security! I told you to fire this disgusting old man this afternoon!"
Arthur Marrow jumped to his feet, his face darkening with rage as he pointed at me. "Adrian, what is the meaning of this? Why is a common servant allowed to interrupt a closed board meeting? Get this garbage out of here before I call the police!"
Adrian didn't move. He sat frozen, his eyes wide, his breath catching in his throat as he looked at my face, and then down at the wet uniform shirt I was holding in my hand.
"Dad...?" Adrian whispered, his voice trembling.
The word Dad hit the ballroom like a physical shockwave.
Arthur Marrow’s hand froze mid-air. Celeste’s aristocratic smile didn't just vanish; it shattered into absolute terror. She looked from me to Adrian, her lower lip beginning to quiver as the realization of her mistake crashed through her skull.
"Good evening, Celeste. Good evening, Arthur," I said, walking slowly to the head of the table. I dropped the wet navy gatekeeper coat onto the polished mahogany, right in front of Celeste’s pristine place setting.
"You told me this afternoon that you wanted this gatekeeper fired before dinner, Celeste," I said, my voice cutting through the suffocating silence of the room. "Well, I’m afraid that’s going to be rather difficult. Because this gatekeeper happens to own fifty-one percent of the shares of Vale Global."
"No... no, that’s impossible," Celeste stammered, her face turning an ash-gray color beneath her heavy makeup. She reached out, gripping the edge of the table to keep her knees from buckling. "You... you were in London. Adrian said you were in London!"
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"I needed to see who you were when the cameras were off, Celeste," I said, tapping the remote control on the table.
The massive digital screens on the ballroom walls flickered to life. The unedited, crystal-clear footage from my collar camera filled the room. The entire board watched in horrified silence as Celeste leaned on her horn, sneered at an old man, and poured a glass of water over my head, shouting, “Let me wash the filth off you.”
