Chapter 3
The private elevator moved upward in absolute silence, a smooth vertical ascent that bypassed the public floors and deposited Maya directly into her private penthouse suite on the forty-second floor. As the brushed-brass doors slid open, she stepped into a space designed as much for strategic withdrawal as for luxury. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a sweeping panorama of Central Park, where the autumn trees bled rust and gold against the gray concrete canyons of Manhattan.
Maya unbuttoned her jacket, draped it over the back of a cream-colored velvet armchair, and walked over to the wet bar to pour a glass of still water. Her hands were finally allowed to tremble slightly, a delayed physiological response to the confrontation downstairs. It was infuriating that after building an empire from the ground up—surviving venture capitalists who thought a young Black woman was a diversity metric rather than a visionary, and boardrooms where she had to fight twice as hard for half the respect—she still had to flash a piece of metal just to walk through her own front doors.
Her phone buzzed on the marble countertop, displaying a text message from her chief legal counsel, David Vance, who happened to be her younger brother and closest confidant. Heard about the lobby incident. Sterling called me in a panic. You good?
Maya typed back with quick, efficient thumbs. I’m fine. But the culture downstairs is rotting from the head down. Marcus is getting too comfortable, and the staff is profiling our guests based on outdated prejudices. We need a complete audit of the hospitality division, starting tomorrow morning.
David’s reply arrived instantly. Already on it. I’ve retained an independent compliance firm to run undercover tests starting tonight. By the way, are you still planning on attending the Vanguard Gala tomorrow night? The board is expecting you to announce the European expansion plans.
May you like
Maya stared at the reflection of her own tired eyes in the darkened window pane. The Vanguard Gala was the pinnacle of New York society—a glittering sea of old money, new tech fortunes, and journalists looking for any sign of weakness. Announcing the European acquisition would cement the Grand Astoria brand globally, but it also meant stepping right back into the lion's den of elites who whispered behind crystal flutes and smiled to her face.
"Yes," she whispered aloud to the empty room. "I’ll be there."
