Chapter 2: Shadows in the Kitchen
The remainder of dinner passed in an agonizing pantomime of domestic bliss. Julian chewed his prime rib with mechanical precision, nodding politely at Beatrice’s lighthearted anecdotes about their upcoming charity gala. Beneath the table, however, his right hand clutched the hidden napkin so tightly his knuckles turned chalk white. He knew he needed to speak with Chloe away from Beatrice’s watchful eyes, but executing such a maneuver without raising suspicion required the timing of a master surgeon.
As the waiter cleared their dessert plates, Beatrice checked her diamond-encrusted wristwatch, a subtle gesture that signaled it was time to depart for their suite on the penthouse floor of the adjacent hotel.
"Shall we head upstairs, darling? Tomorrow is going to be a monumental day for both of us," Beatrice said, smoothing the fabric of her dark red gown as she stood up.
Julian rose gracefully, offering her his arm. "Lead the way, my love. I just need to use the restroom for a brief moment. Go ahead to the elevator; I will meet you there in two minutes."
Beatrice tilted her head, her smile faltering for a microsecond before returning with terrifying perfection. "Don't take too long, Julian. The legal team arrives at seven sharp."
"I won't be a moment," he replied, turning swiftly toward the corridor leading to the restrooms and the employee exit.
Instead of entering the washroom, Julian slipped down the service hallway, guided by the lingering scent of roasted garlic and industrial cleaner. Through the swinging frosted glass doors of the kitchen, he spotted the familiar blonde ponytail and dark red apron. Chloe was standing by the dishwashing station, aggressively scrubbing a stainless steel pan while muttering to herself.
Julian pushed through the door, the sudden clatter of pots masking his entrance. He approached her workstation quickly, keeping his voice to a harsh, controlled whisper.
"Chloe. I read it. Explain. Now."
Chloe dropped the sponge, her eyes widening in sheer panic as she spun around to face him. She pressed her back against the industrial sink, looking frantically toward the dining room doors to ensure no one else had followed him.
"I shouldn't have done it," Chloe whispered, her breath coming in rapid, shallow gasps. "My manager saw me slide that to you. If they find out I talked to you about Engent, I won't just lose my job, Mr. Vance. People like your fiancée don't leave loose ends."
Julian stepped closer, his authority as a corporate titan bleeding into his voice despite the danger. "Who is 'they'? What is Engent?"
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"It's not a software, it's a backdoor," Chloe breathed, trembling. "My brother helped code the security protocols for the acquisition. He found out it’s designed to siphon every offshore account Vance Global holds the second the transfer completes. Then, they frame you for corporate espionage. My brother tried to warn someone yesterday, and now he's in the hospital. Unresponsive."
Julian felt the blood drain from his face. The trap was real. And Beatrice was holding the trigger.
