Chapter 5 - The Glass Room
The Port Alder shipping terminal was shrouded in a dense fog on Thursday night.
Huge steel container cranes loomed over the black water like giant skeletons, while rain slicked the concrete docks below. Inside the terminal's private glass-walled executive suite, thirty high-ranking members of the Vale syndicate sat around a long mahogany conference table.
At the head of the table stood Victor Vance—a sharp-featured man of fifty, wearing a bespoke gray suit and a gold watch.
"Gentlemen," Victor announced, his voice echoing over the quiet room. "I have received word from the medical team at the estate. Gabriel Vale succumbed to severe surgical complications an hour ago."
A collective murmur of shock and tense murmuring swept through the room.
"It is a tragedy," Victor continued, pulling a thick leather folder from his jacket. "Maître Aris has signed the official medical report. As underboss, I am assuming total control of Vale Enterprises effective immediately."
Outside the glass suite, in the dark service hallway, Sadie moved silently wearing a catering staff uniform. She carried a silver tray of champagne glasses.
She slipped through the side pantry door into the executive suite, her head bowed, placing fresh glasses on the side table near Victor’s seat.
As she set the glasses down, her razor-sharp eyes scanned the paperwork sitting on Victor's open leather folder.
There it was—the medical report signed by Dr. Aris.
Beside it lay a small velvet pouch.
Sadie’s breath hitched. Through the thin velvet of the pouch, she could see the distinct shape of a micro-spool of black thread—the remaining roll of toxic marine braid used to sabotage Gabriel's wound. Victor had kept it as leverage against Dr. Aris in case the doctor ever tried to blackmail him.
With practiced, invisible precision, Sadie slid her hand beneath her tray as she picked up an empty water glass.
Clink.
She deliberately spilled a few drops of water onto the corner of the table near Victor’s folder.
"Watch it, girl!" Victor snapped, pushing his chair back in disgust.
"I am so sorry, sir!" Sadie apologized quickly, stepping forward with a napkin to wipe the spill.
In that single second of distraction, as Victor looked down at his damp sleeve, Sadie's fingers darted out. She snatched the velvet pouch and the blue carbon paper receipt from his folder, slipping them seamlessly into the deep pocket of her apron.
Victor grabbed her wrist, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Who are you? You're not from the usual catering crew."
Sadie looked Victor dead in the eye, her voice calm and icy. "I'm the maid who pulled your poison out of Gabriel Vale's shoulder."
Victor froze, his face draining of all color. "What?!"
Before Victor could react, the heavy double doors of the executive suite blew open.
Gabriel Vale walked into the room.
He wore a tailored charcoal suit, his left arm resting comfortably in a dark silk sling. Behind him stood Marcus Trent and twenty heavily armed loyalist guards.
The entire conference room gasped, half the men jumping to their feet in sheer disbelief.
"Gabriel?!" Victor stammered, backing away toward the glass wall. "You... you were dying! Dr. Aris said—"
"Dr. Aris lied for forty thousand dollars," Gabriel said, his voice cutting through the room like a razor blade. He turned his eyes toward Sadie. "Sadie, if you please."
Sadie stepped away from Victor, pulling the velvet pouch and the blue carbon paper from her apron and handing them directly to Marcus.
Marcus held up the velvet pouch, opening it to reveal the spool of black marine thread, while laying the blue carbon receipt flat on the conference table for all the board members to see.
"This is the toxic marine thread Victor paid Dr. Aris to sew into Gabriel's deep tissue," Marcus announced to the room. "And this is the bank receipt proving Victor ordered the hit."
The board members turned on Victor with furious, deadly glares.
Victor reached frantically for the sidearm inside his jacket, but Gabriel was faster. Even with his left arm injured, Gabriel pulled a snub-nosed revolver from his holster with his right hand and fired a single round.
The bullet struck Victor’s shoulder, knocking him off balance and slamming him against the glass wall.
Victor fell to his knees, clutching his bleeding shoulder, weeping in terror as Marcus’s men pinned him to the floor and slapped steel handcuffs on his wrists.
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Gabriel walked slowly up to Victor, looking down at his former underboss with utter contempt.
"You thought you were smart, Victor," Gabriel whispered cold. "But you forgot one simple rule of fabric... you never repair a lie without leaving a stitch behind."
