Vanessa giggled, a high, grating sound, leaning against the bar and tracing the rim of a crystal tumbler.
Minute One.
I stayed on my hands and knees on the cold marble. The bleeding from my back was beginning to slow, congealing in the chilly air conditioning of the grand hall. I didn’t try to stand. I didn’t move. I simply kept my eyes locked on the back of Adrian’s bespoke suit, staring at him with the cold, dead, patient gaze of a sniper waiting for the wind to die down.
He had absolutely no idea. He was entirely, blissfully oblivious to the invisible, catastrophic financial guillotine that was currently in freefall toward his neck.
Minute Two.
Adrian’s personal smartphone, resting on the marble counter of the wet bar, emitted a sharp, high-pitched chime.
He picked it up, taking a casual sip of his scotch. He glanced at the screen. His brow furrowed slightly.
ALERT: Platinum American Express – Account Suspended. Please contact fraud prevention.
Adrian rolled his eyes, aggressively swiping the notification away. “Fucking banking glitches,” he muttered, annoyed that technology had dared to interrupt his victory lap. “Remind me to have my assistant fire our account manager at Amex tomorrow, Vanessa.”
Minute Three.
The phone didn’t chime this time. It began to ring violently, the vibration rattling the device against the marble countertop.
Adrian looked at the caller ID. It was David, his Chief Financial Officer. Adrian sighed heavily, pressing the green button and putting the phone on speaker, clearly intending to use the call to mock me further, to show off his vast corporate importance.
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