Chapter 5 - The Confrontation at Table One
Weston ignored Julian, his face flushed red with a mixture of rage, confusion, and overwhelming panic. He pushed past a waiter and marched toward me.
“Elowen, shut up and tell me what is going on!” Weston demanded, his hands trembling as he reached out to grab my arm. “Where did you get that necklace? Did you steal that dress? Is this some sick stunt because I didn't bring you tonight?”
Before his fingers could touch my velvet glove, two six-foot-four security guards in dark suits moved forward, pinning Weston’s arms behind his back and forcing him half an inch to the floor.
“Hands off the Chairwoman!” the lead guard snapped.
“Wait! Stop!” Claudia screamed, rushing over from the table with Victoria following close behind. “That’s my son! That’s Weston Prescott of Prescott Logistics!”
Claudia glared at me, her eyes furious. “Elowen! Tell these men to let him go right now! Have you lost your mind? What kind of cheap trick is this?”
I looked down at Claudia, adjusting the cuff of my glove.
“It’s not a trick, Claudia,” I said calmly. “You told me two hours ago that eight years in your family made me look ordinary. I simply decided to stop dressing down for your comfort.”
Victoria stepped forward, her face pale, trying desperately to regain her PR composure.
“Elowen—I mean, Madam Sterling,” Victoria stammered, her confidence completely shattered. “There must be a misunderstanding. Prescott Logistics has been working with Vanguard for years! We were promised a fifty-million-dollar buyout tonight!”
I looked at Victoria with utter disgust.
“You were never promised anything, Miss Vance,” I said smoothly. “You spoke to low-level analysts who took your pitch deck. Every single dollar Vanguard injected into Prescott Logistics over the last six years—the twelve million in 2021, the emergency line of credit in 2023—was personally authorized by me.”
Weston’s eyes bulged. He stared at me from between the arms of the security guards, his voice cracking.
“You?” Weston gasped. “You saved my company?”
“I saved your company three times, Weston,” I said, stepping closer so only he, Claudia, and Victoria could hear my low voice. “Not because your business plan was brilliant. Not because you were a genius CEO. But because you were my husband, and I wanted to protect your dream.”
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I leaned in closer, my eyes burning into his.
“I was willing to give you fifty million dollars tonight. But you told me I wasn't polished enough to sit at your table.”
