Chapter 7 - Behind Closed Doors
The glass double doors swung shut behind the fleeing influencer, cutting off the muffled sounds of the downtown street and plunging the cafe back into a peaceful, rhythmic hum. The espresso machine hissed softly as another barista resumed taking orders, signaling to the waiting patrons that normalcy had officially returned to the establishment.
“Marcus,” Arthur said without turning his head away from his granddaughter, his eyes fixed on Mia with quiet pride. “Ensure her management agency receives the formal legal brief detailing our intellectual property claims if she attempts to monetize this incident in any future media appearances. We leave nothing to chance.”
“Already handled, Mr. Sterling,” the lawyer replied smoothly, sliding his phone back into the inner pocket of his charcoal suit jacket. “The legal team will have the paperwork filed before noon. She won't be able to spin this narrative on any mainstream platform without facing immediate injunctions.”
Mia let out a light, musical sigh, shaking her head as she looked between her grandfather and the corporate attorney. “You two treat a simple cafe argument like a hostile corporate takeover. It was just an unpleasant customer having a very public meltdown.”
“It was an assault on your dignity, Mia,” Arthur corrected gently, using his cane to steady himself as he turned toward the back office corridor. “And in this city, people need to understand that the Sterling name still stands for respect, whether you are running a boardroom on the top floor of a skyscraper or pulling shots behind a marble counter on the ground floor. Come, walk with me to the office. We have operational matters to discuss, and I want to hear how the new bean rotation is performing.”
As grandfather and granddaughter walked side by side toward the administrative corridor behind the service counter, the remaining customers exchanged quiet whispers of awe. The secret of Mia’s true identity—guarded so carefully to ensure she learned the business from the ground up without relying on nepotism—was now out in the open, permanently altering the dynamic of the downtown cafe.
The private office at the back of the building was a stark contrast to the bright, open-client space of the storefront. Dark mahogany bookshelves lined the walls, filled with thick ledgers, financial portfolios, and historical records of the Sterling coffee empire dating back over four decades. A single leather armchair sat beside a large mahogany desk overlooking the rainy street below.
Arthur settled heavily into the armchair, resting his hands atop the curved handle of his wooden cane, while Mia remained standing by the window, watching the rain wash away the remaining traces of the morning’s chaos.
“You chose to work this shift at this specific location,” Arthur noted, his voice carrying a knowing, reflective tone. “Out of all twelve cafes in the metropolitan district, why this one, Mia?”
May you like
Mia turned away from the glass, her dark eyes reflecting the warm pendant lights of the office. “Because this is where you started, Grandfather. Before the skyscrapers, before the conglomerate, and before the wealth. If I want to inherit this empire one day, I need to know the bitter taste of it from the very bottom.”
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