Chapter 5 - The Audit and the ApartmentThe silence that returned to the boardroom felt heavy, almost sacred.
The remaining three board members sat frozen in their seats, staring at Viktor with a fresh, profound terror that went far beyond mere respect. Viktor calmly straightened his cuffs, sat back down at the head of the table, and looked around the room.
“The emergency vote is adjourned,” Viktor announced smoothly. “Send the revised restructuring proposals to my office by nine a.m. tomorrow. Meeting dismissed.”
Within ninety seconds, the boardroom was entirely empty except for Viktor and me.
I let out a long, shaky breath I felt like I’d been holding since I first walked up to table nine at Sterling House. My knees suddenly felt weak, and I gripped the back of the chair for support. Forty-seven dollars and twelve cents. That was still my bank balance.
Viktor looked across the table, studying me with those unreadable gray eyes.
“You saved my company tonight, Mara,” he said quietly.
“I saved my rent from being overdue,” I corrected, trying to keep my voice steady. “Though I appreciate the dramatic backdrop.”
Viktor reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a thick, heavy fountain pen. He opened a leather checkbook, scribbled something across a slip of cream-colored paper, tore it out, and slid it across the polished slate table toward me.
I looked down at it.
The numbers swam before my eyes.
Fifty thousand dollars.
My breath caught in my throat. I looked up sharply, pushing the check back across the table. “What is this? I don't charity, Mr. Kovacs.”
“It is not charity,” Viktor replied firmly, leaning forward. “It is a retainer. Effective immediately, you are resigning from Sterling House. Kovacs Global Logistics requires a director of corporate intelligence who understands both financial cryptography and human deceit. Your starting salary will be six figures, with full medical benefits.”
I stared at him, my mind spinning. Medical benefits. That meant my mother’s lingering hospital accounts—the debt that had been slowly crushing the life out of me—would be wiped out by insurance provisions and corporate legal settlement funds.
“You’re serious,” I whispered.
“Deadly serious,” Viktor said with a faint, rare smile. “Besides, Daniel Mercer would never forgive me if I left his best waitress unemployed.”
May you like
“Daniel doesn't know half of what happened tonight,” I muttered, though a bubble of hysterical, ecstatic relief was finally rising in my chest.
“He will soon,” Viktor said, standing up and buttoning his suit jacket. “Come. Let us go pay a visit to your landlord.”
