Chapter 3 - The Silver Embossed Card
The cafe seemed to hold its collective breath as the small silver-embossed card hovered in the empty space between the distinguished older man and the visibly shaken influencer. The blue glow of the smartphone screen illuminated the sharp angles of the man's face, casting deep shadows beneath his silver eyebrows. For the first time since she had started screaming about the spilled espresso, the blonde woman hesitated, her fingers tightening nervously around the plastic casing of her device.
“What is this garbage?” she spat out, though her voice lacked its previous booming confidence, dropping into a defensive, shrill register. “I don't take flyers from random weirdos in coffee shops! I'm a digital entrepreneur, not some street beggar looking for coupons!”
“Read the name on the card, young lady,” the older man instructed, his tone dropping an octave into a chilling, commanding whisper that cut through the silence of the room like a razor blade. “Go ahead. Read it out loud for your half a million live viewers. Let them see exactly who you are dealing with before you decide to destroy someone's livelihood over a few drops of roasted coffee.”
The influencer’s eyes darted nervously from the silver card to the old man’s unblinking, steely gaze. The digital chat feed running along the bottom of her phone screen was moving at a blinding speed, with hundreds of comments scrolling past every second. Viewers were beginning to notice the sudden shift in momentum, typing out questions about the man’s identity and mocking her sudden hesitation. Trapped by her own live broadcast and desperate to reclaim her vanishing authority, she aggressively snatched the card from his fingers, holding it up directly to the camera lens.
“Fine! Let's see what kind of pathetic scam you're trying to pull!” she shouted, squinting at the fine print illuminated by the screen. She read the name aloud, her voice faltering mid-syllable as the words registered in her brain: Arthur Sterling.
The name echoed softly against the marble walls of the downtown cafe. For a second, the influencer stood frozen, her mouth slightly open, processing the surname. Then, the full terrifying weight of the realization hit her like a physical blow. Her face drained of its carefully applied color, turning a sickly, pale white as her eyes went wide with sheer terror. The phone in her hand began to shake violently, causing the live-streamed video to jerk erratically from side to side.
“Sterling?” she whispered, the word barely audible over the faint hum of the espresso machine behind the counter. “No... no, that’s impossible. You’re... you’re Arthur Sterling? The Sterling Group?”
“The very same,” Arthur replied calmly, slipping his hands back into the deep pockets of his black wool coat. He tilted his head slightly, studying her panicked expression with clinical detachment. “And as it turns out, my granddaughter Mia was simply trying to clean up an accident that you deliberately escalated for the sake of online engagement. Now, let’s talk about those brand partnerships of yours.”
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Before the influencer could stammer out a single coherent syllable of apology, Arthur turned his head toward the entrance, raising his hand to signal someone waiting outside the glass double doors.
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