I looked down at Leo. He was terrified. I could feel the rapid beating of his heart against my leg. My protective instincts screamed at me to grab Preston by the throat and drive him through the nearest glass display case. But I couldn't do that. Not in front of my son. Not when there was a deeper rot in this company that I needed to expose.
"Stay close, Leo," I murmured, resting my hand securely on his back.
"I'm waiting for your ID," Preston demanded, holding out an open palm. "Last chance before things get ugly."
"Things are already ugly," I said calmly.
Before Preston could give the order to the guards, the crowd parted violently.
Arthur, the CEO of Sterling Automotive, burst into the clearing. He was a tall man in his early sixties, with silver hair and a meticulously tailored navy blue suit. Right now, however, he looked like he had just sprinted up six flights of stairs. His face was pale, his breathing ragged, and a sheen of nervous sweat coated his forehead.
He skidded to a halt between the security guards, his eyes wildly scanning the small group until they locked onto me.
He had never seen my face, but he recognized the cold authority radiating from the man standing his ground.
"Arthur," I said quietly.
Arthur swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing sharply. "Mr. Vance. Sir. I... I apologize. I had no idea you were in the building."
The name didn't register with the crowd, but it hit Preston like a physical blow. The arrogant sneer vanished from the Event Manager’s face, replaced by a look of profound, staggering confusion.
"Arthur?" Preston asked, his voice cracking slightly. "What is going on? This man is trespassing. He and his kid were putting their hands all over the prototype."
Arthur turned to Preston, his eyes wide with panic. "Preston, shut your mouth. Just... shut your mouth right now."
I looked at Arthur. He was terrified of me, but as I watched him interact with Preston, I saw something else. Arthur wasn't just panicked; he was hesitant. When he looked at his Event Manager, there was a flash of genuine fear in the CEO's eyes.
Arthur was the boss, but Preston held some kind of leverage over him.
"What kind of people are you hiring to represent this company, Arthur?" I asked, my voice cutting through the silence of the room.
Arthur visibly cringed. "Sir, Preston is... he handles all our high-net-worth clients. He’s highly recommended. He’s the nephew of our primary steel supplier."
Nepotism. That explained the arrogance. But it didn't explain the stolen titanium watch on Preston's wrist, and it didn't explain why Arthur was sweating so heavily.
"I don't care who his uncle is," I said, taking a step forward. I pointed a rigid finger directly at Preston's chest. "Fire him right now."
Preston's jaw dropped. The color completely drained from his face. He looked at Arthur, waiting for the CEO to defend him, waiting for the punchline of a terrible joke.
Arthur hesitated. He looked down at the floor, wringing his hands together. "Mr. Vance, please. This is a very delicate situation. We have major investors in the room. Preston has... relationships. We can't just terminate him on the floor without causing a panic."
"Arthur," I said, my voice dropping an octave, "this man grabbed my five-year-old son by the arm. He threatened to throw us onto the street. You will fire him, or I will fire you."
Arthur trembled, but he didn't speak. He looked at Preston with a pleading expression.
The silence stretched for three agonizing seconds. And in that silence, Preston realized that Arthur wasn't going to pull the trigger.
The shock on Preston's face slowly melted away, replaced by a cold, desperate survival instinct. He realized I was someone powerful, but he also realized that Arthur was too compromised to act.
Preston let out a breath, his shoulders dropping as a dark, twisted smirk returned to his face. He looked at me, his eyes gleaming with malicious intent.