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Chapter 2 - The Toasts

At seven o’clock, I walked down the sweeping timber staircase to the great room. The forty-two employees of Hayes Freight were mingling awkwardly, holding craft cocktails and eyeing the expensive new leather furniture. The tension in the room was suffocating. Every single employee knew the master suite belonged exclusively to the Hayes family. Every single employee knew Graham had just brazenly moved his Director of Brand Partnerships into it.

Graham stood proudly beside the new wine wall, holding court with the regional sales managers. Chloe was at his elbow, wearing a stunning emerald-green silk dress, acting entirely as the lady of the manor. She was pointing out the intricate stonework on the fireplace, casually mentioning how she had "sourced the materials personally to elevate the space."

Graham tapped his crystal glass with a silver spoon. The room fell into a dead, uncomfortable silence.

"I want to welcome you all to Morrow Ridge Lodge," Graham announced, his voice projecting effortlessly over the crackling fire. "As you can see, we’ve made some incredible executive improvements to the property. We want this space to reflect the modern, aggressive future of Hayes Freight. I specifically want to thank Chloe Mercer, whose brilliant design consultation brought this entire vision to life."

A scattered, deeply hesitant smattering of applause rippled through the employees. Chloe smiled demurely, tucking a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.

Graham’s eyes found me standing near the back of the room. He offered a patronizing, challenging smile. "Eleanor, as the representative of the Hayes family, would you like to say a few words about the beautiful renovations?"

He thought he was backing me into a corner. He expected me to offer a polite, humiliated nod to avoid making a public scene in front of his staff.

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"No, thank you, Graham," I said, my voice carrying clearly over the silence. "I prefer to wait until tomorrow morning's strategy session. I find that the numbers always speak for themselves."

Graham’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, a flash of irritation crossing his features, but his immense arrogance quickly smothered his intuition. He turned back to the crowd, raising his glass, entirely oblivious to the trap snapping shut around his ankles.

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