PART 3: The Sound of Silence
The entire plaza seemed to hold its breath.
Dozens of eyes shifted from the arrogant socialite to the exhausted, unbranded man standing before her. They were waiting for me to break. They were waiting for me to yell, to curse, or to turn around and run away in humiliation.
I didn't do any of those things.
I didn't try to explain who I was.
I didn't mention the hostile takeover I had just orchestrated, or the hundreds of millions of dollars that had just moved through my accounts less than an hour ago.
Instead, I simply looked her dead in the eye. A cold, unwavering smile spread across my face.
"Then get ready," I replied softly.
"Excuse me?" she fired back, her confidence briefly faltering.
"Get on your knees. Now."
"You are delusional!" she shrieked.
I slowly reached into the pocket of my unassuming slacks. The small crowd went completely still. Even her friends stopped giggling.
I pulled out the matte-black key fob.
My thumb hovered over the silver crest in the center. I locked eyes with her one last time, watching the sudden flicker of absolute terror ignite in her pupils.
I pressed the button.
BEEP-BEEP.
The heavy, mechanical click of the high-end locking system echoed like a gunshot across the plaza.
The Porsche's sleek headlights flashed brilliantly.
The side mirrors automatically folded out with a smooth mechanical whir.
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The woman's smug, arrogant smile vanished. The color violently drained from her face, leaving her looking like a terrified ghost. She gasped, violently flinching away from the hood of the car as if the metal had suddenly caught fire.
"No," she whispered, her voice trembling. "No, that’s... that’s a trick."
