Promptly at 7:00 PM, Victoria swept into the dining room, a vision in a sleek, sapphire designer dress. She radiated an almost triumphant confidence, her smile wide and warm as she greeted the assembled board members and family. Marcus hovered uncertainly behind her.
“Eleanor,” Victoria chirped, air-kissing my cheek. “Such a lovely surprise. I trust this means good news for the future of Bennett Corporate Group?”
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation. She truly believed this dinner was my public surrender, my voluntary retirement. She saw me as an obstacle easily removed, and tonight, she expected to finalize her victory. She picked up a chilled bottle of champagne from a waiting server, pouring glasses for the board members.
“To Eleanor,” she announced, raising her glass, her voice dripping with feigned deference. “For her many years of dedicated service. And to the bright financial future awaiting Bennett Corporate Group.”
A few board members offered polite murmurs of agreement, raising their own glasses. They were all complicit, to varying degrees, in the scheme to remove me, swayed by Victoria’s promises of increased profits and aggressive expansion. They believed her narrative of my “senility” and “erratic behavior.”
At the far end of the table, Maya sat silently. Her small frame seemed swallowed by the large chair. Her eyes, usually so expressive, were blank, staring at her empty plate, unseeing. Her hands rested still in her lap, not trembling, but utterly devoid of movement. Her silence was a raw, aching wound in the festive atmosphere Victoria had tried to create.
Victoria, caught up in her moment of perceived glory, barely glanced at her. She was too busy basking in the illusion of control.
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