Chapter 2 - The Blocked Keycard
The humiliation was designed to break me, but Thomas had deeply underestimated the blood running through my veins. Arthur Sterling hadn't just taught me how to read a balance sheet; he had taught me how to read people.
I didn't argue with Thomas in the lobby. I simply took the standard suite keycard from a terrified Marcus, grabbed my duffel bag, and walked toward the elevators with my head held high, ignoring the whispers of the charity ball guests.
But as the elevator doors slid shut, my calm facade cracked. My hands were shaking. I looked at the ruined cashmere sweater—the last gift my grandfather had given me—and felt a hot tear slide down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. There was no time for crying.
I swiped the keycard to the fourth-floor suite. The light flashed red. Access Denied.
I swiped it again. Red.
My pulse spiked. I pulled out my phone and tried to log into the Sterling Enterprise master server to override the door lock. My password was rejected. Account Suspended.
Thomas hadn't just put me in a standard room; he had locked me out of the entire digital infrastructure of my own company. He was orchestrating a hostile takeover from the inside, and he had used Julian as a pawn to keep the regional numbers looking clean while he drained the accounts.
Suddenly, the heavy oak door of the suite next to mine clicked open. Marcus Tate, the head concierge, stood in the doorway, looking terrified. He quickly ushered me inside and locked the door behind us.
“Marcus, what is going on?” I demanded.
“Miss Sterling, I am so sorry,” Marcus whispered, wringing his hands. “Your uncle has been threatening the staff for months. He brought in his own IT team last week. They’ve locked you out of everything.”
“Why didn't you call me? Why didn't anyone report this?”
“Because he told us you were selling the company,” Marcus confessed, looking down at his shoes in shame. “Thomas held a staff meeting in October. He showed us forged documents with your signature, proving you were going to liquidate the Alpine Lodge and fire all of us to fund your lifestyle in New York. He said he was trying to save our jobs by bringing in private buyers.”
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I felt a cold rage settle in my stomach. “Private buyers? Who is occupying my grandfather’s penthouse, Marcus?”
Marcus swallowed hard. “The Vanguard Group. A corporate raiding firm. Thomas is signing the lodge over to them tomorrow morning at the charity breakfast. Miss Sterling... he’s selling the crown jewel of your grandfather’s empire.”
