Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE: THE DISSECTION OF A BULLY
Eleanor Chen didn’t just run a company; she owned the Apex Global Syndicate, the parent conglomerate that controlled not only Zenith Automotive but the very real estate the showroom sat upon. To the financial world, she was known as the ‘Iron Dragon.’ To see her tending to an old man in a faded cardigan was a shock; to realize that man was the patriarch of the Chen dynasty was a revelation that sent shockwaves through the room.
“My father,” Eleanor repeated, her voice eerily calm, though her eyes blazed with a murderous intensity. “The man who built the foundation of the very ground you are standing on. The man you just assaulted.”
Liam swallowed hard, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. His mind raced, desperately searching for a lifeline. “I… I didn’t know,” he managed to choke out, raising his hands in a pathetic gesture of surrender. “He was dressed like… I mean, he looked like he wandered in off the street. I was just trying to protect the merchandise. I’m a premium client here!”
“A premium client?” Eleanor echoed, the corner of her mouth twitching upward in a terrifying, humorless smile. She slowly turned her gaze to the showroom’s general manager, a slick-haired man named Marcus, who was currently trembling behind a reception desk, looking as pale as a ghost.
“Marcus,” Eleanor called out. Her voice was barely above a whisper, yet it carried across the dead-silent room.
Marcus practically tripped over his own feet as he scrambled forward, bowing so deeply his nose nearly touched his knees. “Ms. Chen. I… I am so deeply sorry. Everything happened so fast. We had no idea…”
“You had no idea,” Eleanor interrupted, her tone dripping with ice. “You watched a man in his seventies be physically assaulted in your showroom, and you did nothing. But we will address your catastrophic failure of management shortly. Right now, I want the file on this ‘premium client.'” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at Liam.
Marcus scrambled to an iPad, his fingers flying across the screen. “Mr. Liam Vance, ma’am. He is a Vice President at Vanguard Logistics. He has purchased two vehicles from us in the past three years.”
“Purchased?” Eleanor raised an eyebrow.
Marcus hesitated, clearing his throat nervously. “Apologies, ma’am. Leased. Financed through Apex Capital.”
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Eleanor turned her gaze back to Liam, who now looked like a cornered animal. The crowd, previously too scared to intervene, was now watching with morbid, captivated fascination. Smartphones were discreetly pulled out; cameras were rolling.
“So,” Eleanor began, pacing slowly around Liam, evaluating him like a piece of defective machinery. “You lease your cars through my bank. You wear a suit you likely bought on credit. You project an aura of immense wealth by bullying those you perceive to be beneath you, simply because my father prefers comfort over flashy displays of insecurity.”
