CEO Calls The Waitress A Liar About Speaking 9 Languages — Until Three Words Leave Him Silent
Chapter 12
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Sterling's lead counsel, a severe-looking woman in her fifties, raised an eyebrow, impressed. Sterling himself just watched Elara, his expression unreadable.For two hours, this was the pattern. Elara didn't just translate; she interpreted. She caught subtle cultural nuances, pointed out potentially ambiguous phrasing, and served as a human lie detector.The silence that followed Adler's departure was a physical presence in the cavernous conference room. It was heavier than the black granite of the table, more vast than the cityscape framed by the floor-to-ceiling windows.Elara remained seated, her hands resting on the cool leather of her portfolio, her spine a rigid line of defiance. She was acutely aware of Julian Sterling, who had not moved from his position at the head of the table. He was watching her, and the analytical coldness of last night was gone, replaced by something far more complex and unsettling: a raw, turbulent mixture of awe and profound self-recrimination. He looked like a man who had just witnessed a fundamental law of his universe being broken."I have terminated Richard Thorne's employment," he said finally.The words were clipped, stripped of emotion, as if stating a fact from a quarterly report.Elara did not react, her expression remaining neutral. She had expected this. Thorne was a symptom, not the disease."That must have been a difficult decision," she said, her voice even. It was a test."It was the easiest decision I've made all year," he countered, a flicker of his old ruthlessness surfacing. "He was a liability. His arrogance made him a poor judge of character—a fatal flaw." He paused, his gaze intensifying. "A flaw I am now forced to recognize in my own reflection."He pushed away from the table and walked not toward her, but toward the window, placing his hands on the cool glass. He was putting a barrier between them, but also exposing his back to her—a gesture of either supreme confidence or startling vulnerability. She suspected it was both."My apology last night was a public necessity," he began, his voice low, resonating against the glass. "This one is a personal one. What I did, Miss Vance... Elara... it was not merely an error in judgment. It was a failure of humanity. I saw a uniform, and I made a verdict. I used the power I possessed to inflict a wound because your existence challenged my preconceived notions of the world. There is no excuse for it. But there is a reason."