Chapter 2: The Cleanup
"Ms. Rostova?" Cassandra whispered, the name tasting like ash in her mouth.
Everyone knew the name Rostova. The Rostova Syndicate owned half the real estate in Manhattan, three private banks, and the very ground the St. Regis was built upon. But the heir to the empire had been living in Europe, a ghost, a myth meant to terrify unruly board members.
"That's impossible," Cassandra hissed, her voice trembling as she finally managed to stand, her Dior dress ruined by a spilled cocktail on the floor. "You're a waitress! I saw you cleaning tables!"
Elena lazily adjusted the pink diamond on her finger. "I was inspecting my property, Cassandra. I like to know how my investments are running from the ground up. And I must say, I am deeply disappointed by the clientele."
Julian stepped forward, snapping his fingers. Four elite bodyguards in tailored black suits materialized from the shadows, surrounding Cassandra.
"Cassandra Sterling," Elena said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, low timbre. "Your father has been begging my acquisitions department for a fifty-million-dollar loan to save his failing tech start-up. He mortgaged your family estate, your trust fund, and even those hideous pearl necklaces your mother flaunts, just to secure a meeting with me tomorrow."
Cassandra’s face turned from pale white to a sickly shade of green. "No... No, my father is rich. We are the Sterlings!"
"You were the Sterlings," Elena corrected, taking a glass of champagne from a passing tray and taking a delicate sip. "As of this moment, your loan is denied. Furthermore, I’m calling in the debts. Your father owes Vance International twenty million, due immediately." She glanced at Julian. "Isn't that right, Julian?"
"By midnight tonight, Ms. Rostova," Julian agreed smoothly, a cruel smile playing on his lips.
"You can't do this!" Cassandra screamed, abandoning all pretense of high society etiquette. She lunged toward Elena, her manicured claws extended.
She didn't even make it halfway. Elena simply stepped aside, and Julian’s bodyguards grabbed Cassandra by the arms, lifting her completely off the ground. She kicked and thrashed, screaming profanities that made the elite guests cover their ears in horror.
"Take out the trash," Elena commanded, her voice cold and absolute. "And make sure she exits through the service alley. It's only fitting."
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As Cassandra was dragged out, kicking and sobbing, Elena turned to face the shocked crowd. The room was paralyzed. No one dared to breathe.
"Now," Elena said, a bright, chilling smile spreading across her beautiful face. "Let’s talk about the rest of you. Because Cassandra wasn't the only one I saw misbehaving tonight."
