Marcus snapped his head up, his eyes widening in shock. "How do you know about the red folder? He keeps that locked in his desk. He screams if anyone even touches it. He says it’s 'special administrative' paperwork."
I looked down at the crumpled contract still hidden in my jacket pocket. Elias wasn't just a snob. He was running an entirely separate, predatory shadow business from inside my showroom. He was using the pristine, trusted reputation of Vance Automotive to lure in vulnerable buyers, denying them our fair financing, and funneling them into his own private LLC at loan-shark rates.
And my own company executives were blind to it because he was hiding his illegal skimming behind his overall massive sales volume.
"I need to talk to those people," I said softly, standing up.
"Wait, sir, what people?" Marcus stood up quickly, his panic returning. "You can't go back out there!"
I ignored him, walking quickly back down the corridor and peering around the edge of the service doors.
Elias’s glass office was empty. I scanned the floor. The young, anxious couple had just walked out of the office and were standing near a mid-tier sedan. The husband looked completely defeated, holding a carbon copy of the paperwork. His wife was quietly wiping a tear from her cheek. Elias was nowhere to be seen.
"Ten seconds," I muttered to myself. I walked swiftly across the showroom floor, ignoring the glares of the staff.
I approached the couple. Up close, they looked even younger, probably in their late twenties, exhausted and entirely overwhelmed.
"Excuse me," I said, keeping my voice low. "Did you just sign a contract with Elias Sterling?"
The husband looked at me, confused by my worn jacket. "Uh, yeah. We just closed."
"Did he tell you the interest rate was twenty-nine percent? Did he tell you it was being financed through Apex Capital?"
The wife gasped, her eyes darting around nervously. "He... he said it was a special Vance Automotive program for people with our credit score. He said if we didn't sign it today, he'd report our financial status to the state and we'd never be able to buy a car anywhere. We have a baby on the way. We need a reliable car."
Rage, hot and blinding, flared in the center of my chest. Extortion. He was using threats to lock them into financial slavery.
"I need to see that paperwork," I said, reaching out. "Right now."
The husband hesitated, but my tone left no room for argument. He handed me the carbon copy.
I scanned the pages. It was completely illegal. The fees were astronomical. The clauses were predatory. And Elias had stamped the Vance Automotive corporate seal right next to his own shell company's logo, forging a legitimacy that did not exist.
Suddenly, a vicious grip clamped down on the back of my canvas collar.
I was forcefully spun around. Elias Sterling stood there, his face purple with absolute fury.
"What the hell are you doing?" Elias snarled, his voice a low, venomous hiss. He snatched the carbon copy out of my hand so fast the paper tore. He shoved the terrified husband backward. "Get to your car. Now. The deal is done."
The young couple scrambled away, practically running out the front doors.
Elias didn't call security this time. He was breathing heavily, his eyes darting frantically to the torn contract in his hand, realizing I had just been reading his secret financials. His corporate facade was completely gone, replaced by the cornered panic of a criminal who thought he was about to lose everything.
He grabbed my arm with violent force. "You're coming with me."
"I suggest you let go of me," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
"Shut up," he hissed. He physically dragged me across the marble floor, pushing me roughly through the heavy oak door of his private back office.