Chapter 10
The white gravel crunched softly under David’s Italian leather shoes as he hurried across the courtyard toward the staff locker area. He found Julian standing quietly by the open metal locker, holding the slashed fragments of her spare uniform in one hand and the threatening note in the other. Her expression was completely unreadable—not a trace of fear, only a cold, calculating resolve that reminded him strikingly of his father in his early entrepreneurial days.
“Is this what I think it is?” David asked, his voice dropping an octave as he looked at the ruined fabric.
Julian handed him the note without a word. David scanned the handwriting, his brow furrowing deeply as his jaw tightened.
“Thomas,” David growled, the realization dawning instantly. “Or one of his loyalists among the middle managers. They think a scare tactic will drive you out before the audits even begin.”
“They don't understand who they're dealing with,” Julian replied steadily, slipping the note back into her blazer pocket. “They think this is about a uniform or a bruised elbow. They don’t realize that every threat, every act of petty sabotage, just proves how desperate they are. People who are secure in their power don't slash lockers in the dark.”
“We need to report this to corporate security immediately,” David urged, stepping closer. “Pull the hallway surveillance footage. Whoever did this is getting fired and potentially facing criminal charges for intimidation.”
“No,” Julian said firmly, holding up a hand to stop him. “Not yet.”
David blinked in surprise. “Julian, you can’t just let them get away with threatening you. If we don’t crush this behavior now, it will escalate.”
“I’m not letting them get away with anything,” Julian clarified, her eyes flashing with sharp intelligence. “If we call security and launch a formal investigation today, they’ll hide. They’ll find a scapegoat, burn a low-level clerk, and protect the mastermind. I want the mastermind out in the open. I want them to make a bigger mistake.”
David studied her face for a long moment, a slow, appreciative smile breaking through his serious expression. “You’re dangerous, Julian. You know that, right?”
“I’m surviving,” she corrected softly. “And I’m fixing this resort, one brick at a time.”
Back in the main office, Richard Sterling reviewed the security access logs for the staff locker hallway. The digital keycard records showed that only two people had accessed the restricted zone during the narrow window when the locker was vandalized: Thomas Vance and the head of resort logistics, a man named Henderson who had been with the company for fifteen years.
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Richard didn’t call security. Instead, he picked up his desk phone and dialed Marcus Vance.
“Marcus,” Richard said quietly when the line connected. “Pull Thomas and Henderson into my office first thing tomorrow morning. Tell them we’re auditing the logistics supply chain. Let’s see how fast rats abandon a sinking ship when you start shining a flashlight into their holes.”
