Adjusted his collar.
And said, calmly:
“Thank you… for the refreshing shower.”
Confusion rippled outward.
Something was wrong. This wasn’t how humiliation was supposed to look.
“Now,” he added quietly, “let’s begin.”
The director scoffed. “Begin what?”
Richard reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
“I’m in the lobby,” he said. “Bring them.”
He hung up.
And waited.
Two minutes passed.
Five.
The laughter faded. The whispers changed tone. Something invisible unspoken shifted in the air.
Then
The doors opened.
Not guests.
Not staff.
But authority.
Lawyers in tailored suits. Executives with unreadable expressions. Security personnel who didn’t block doors they controlled outcomes. And at the center, a man holding documents with quiet urgency.
The entire room froze.
“Mr. Morgan,” one of them said, nodding with respect.
That was the moment everything broke.