Chapter 403: Round Table

The doors opened, and the room went dead silent.

Nobody moved. Nobody said anything for a good few seconds. The private dining room took up the whole top floor of the tower, one wall just glass from floor to ceiling, the Spires spread out below like scattered lights. A single round table for six was in the middle, already loaded with more silverware than any meal actually needed.

Lorenzo Perez was sitting facing the door, relaxed, a glass of something dark red in hand. Older than Nash expected, silver hair combed back, not a strand out of place, deep lines cut into his face that somehow read as distinguished instead of old, the kind of face that just photographed well without trying.

His suit was dark, simple, and obviously expensive if you knew what to look for. His hands rested loosely on the table, and honestly, he looked like he found the whole thing a little funny already.

To his left, Hector was just... sitting there. Normally, this guy was the definition of "main antagonist energy", but right now? He looked like absolute trash. He looked grey, just completely drained of any life. He was wearing an expensive-looking suit, but on him, it looked weird, like he’d stolen it off some other guy’s body. He didn’t even look like himself.

To Lorenzo’s right, in the sixth chair, sat a guy Nash had never seen before, in the flesh that is, because somewhere else, man was a legend. Messy blond hair falling over sharp eyes, a small gold hoop in one ear, collar popped, a dark chain hanging against his open shirt. He had this smirk going, the kind you only get from way too much practice in front of a mirror.

Flash Goldust, the problem itself.

Nash kept his face blank anyway, this meeting had just reached a new height, better play it safe.

Nobody moved for a while. Nobody spoke. Every single person in that room carried some history with someone else at the table, and it all landed on Victoria at once.

Victoria and the man who’d fathered her, and probably killed her mother. Victoria and Flash. Victoria and Hector. Victoria and Monique. Monique and Nash. Hector and Nash. Nash and Flash, who had no idea yet how personal this was about to get for him.

Lorenzo broke the silence first, setting his glass down without a sound.

"You’re late," he said.

One of Victoria’s eyebrows rose. She forced a smile and walked further into the room, completely unbothered.

"When you’re the one holding all the cards," she said, "the other side doesn’t get to complain about the lobby."

Lorenzo’s face didn’t change, but something behind his eyes did. He hadn’t expected quite that much bite from her right out of the gate.

"Sit," he said, gesturing at the empty chairs, doing his best impression of hospitality even though everyone in the room knew exactly what kind of invitation this actually was.

He had been invited; he was the one on enemy territory, and yet he gave the order to sit. It was a display of power: by sitting down after his command, they would position themselves above him, and Victoria understood that.

So, she didn’t sit.

She stood at the edge of the table instead and let the silence go a beat too long, her eyes moving slowly across the three men already seated. Lorenzo, Hector, who got about as much attention from her as a coat rack would, and Flash. All three of them waiting for her to take the bait, and she let them wait.

Nobody said anything. Nobody dared to yet.

Then, her eyes drifted over to Monique, standing quietly behind them.

"Power," Victoria said, "isn’t something you announce. It’s something you demonstrate. People waste years arguing about who has it, when really all you have to do is watch what someone’s allowed to do in a room, and to whom."

She turned fully toward Monique.

"Have you recovered?" Victoria asked. "From your... terrible fate."

Monique’s face tightened. Her hand drifted to her own forearm, scratching, the sleeve riding up just enough to show the marks underneath, thin raised lines she’d clearly put there herself.

"I wanted you here tonight," Victoria went on, watching the gesture without commenting on it. "Didn’t bother checking whether you were actually well enough to make it. Figured these clowns wouldn’t drag you across the city in that state unless they just didn’t care one way or another. Guess I was right again."

Monique’s jaw grinded, her eyes locked on the tablecloth.

"Sit," Victoria said.

Monique blinked, confused. There wasn’t an open seat anywhere near her. Every chair at the table was taken, so what was she talking about?

"That’s the thing about power," Victoria continued, like she hadn’t noticed the confusion at all. "You can do what you want to who you want, or in that case, to what. " Her gaze slid over to Hector. "You, the disappointment. Monique’s taking your seat. You’ll stand for the rest of the night."

The room froze for a second. Hector actually flinched, unable to process what he just heard. Victoria looked like she couldn’t careless.

It was a joke, it had to be a joke. His head slowly turned toward his father, waiting, clearly, for Lorenzo to shut this down. But Lorenzo didn’t say a word. Flash let out a short laugh. Monique still hadn’t moved, glancing around like she expected this to be some kind of test.

"Victoria," Hector said, voice tightening. "This is absurd."

"I already said that I have no business with the head of the horse," Victoria said, still perfectly calm. "I am talking to its ass, so may the head wait to be decapitated."

A few more seconds passed. Lorenzo just watched, curious how far this would actually go.

Hector’s hands curled against the edge of the table. He looked at his father one more time, looking for something, anything, and got nothing back. Lorenzo wasn’t stepping in.

The tension in the room had turned into something you could almost feel physically pressing on your chest.

Finally, jaw tight, Hector pushed his chair back and stood, stepping away without a word, staring at nothing, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

Something crossed Lorenzo’s face as he watched his son give up his own seat without so much as a fight. Cold, brief, unmistakably disappointment, and then gone.

"There," Victoria said, gesturing at Hector while Monique lowered herself carefully into the chair, not looking at anyone either. "That’s the whole lesson on management, right there, in case anyone was still confused about where things went wrong. Give a man a seat, he’ll defend it. Give him nothing to defend, and he folds without even trying."

"You’ll notice," she added, finally taking her own seat across from Lorenzo, "I didn’t have to raise my voice once to get exactly what I wanted at this table. Keep that in mind for the rest of the evening." She folded her hands neatly. "You need me here tonight, Lorenzo. I don’t need any of you. That difference is going to matter a lot before dinner’s over."

She glanced back at the door, checking on Nash and Dahlia, then gave a little nod toward the two empty chairs. Nash walked over and plopped down into a chair, looking pretty relaxed. Dahlia, though, waited a second, then walked over and sat down way more stiffly.

Lorenzo’s face stayed composed, but something behind his eyes shifted again.

"Let’s do introductions properly, then," he said. "My son, Hector, you already know. Though these days I suspect you know his failures better than his face."

"Know him well enough," Victoria said, not even glancing at Hector. "Decent conversation piece, as long as you don’t expect him to actually do anything with the results."

Hector’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t answer. What was there to say, reduced to a talking point in a conversation nobody had invited him to actually join.

Lorenzo’s eyes moved to the young man on his right.

"And this," he said, "is Flash. I believe you two have history."

"You could say that," Flash said, throwing Victoria a grin along with a wink, way too pleased with himself for the least important person currently at the table.

"A pathetic, spoiled child," Victoria said, bored. "Who fell apart the second somebody finally told him no."

Flash’s grin didn’t drop. If anything it got wider, like the insult had landed somewhere he actually enjoyed. Maybe the guy was a masochist.

Lorenzo let it go, turning instead to the two people still standing near the door.

"And this," he said, eyes landing on Dahlia first, "must be the little pet you keep for entertainment these days." He didn’t wait for a reaction before moving on to Nash, sliding his gaze over him with the same mild curiosity you’d give furniture you hadn’t ordered. "And this, I assume, is the nobody I keep hearing about from the Underground."

The room went dead silent.

Victoria put both her hands flat on the table. She was totally calm, yet, a strange kind of pressure fell on the room.

"Let’s get one thing straight before we go any further," she said. "You can insult me all night if it makes you feel better about how bad your situation is. I don’t care. But the next time you say a word about either of them, I’m walking away. And I’ll take every single piece of dirt I have on you straight to whoever sends you to your grave faster."

Nobody moved. Hector looked back and forth between his father and Victoria, looking kind of exhausted but also... hopeful? Like he was waiting for something to happen. Monique just stared at the tablecloth, but her shoulders were stiff as a board. Flash let out a little whistle, looking impressed. Lorenzo gave him a sharp look, but Flash didn’t even care.

"This man," Victoria continued, nodding toward Nash, "is the reason your whole business is falling apart in public right now. And the woman next to him has been running my entire organization while I built the blueprint of your funeral. Insult them again, and this conversation is over. I want an apology. Now."

Nobody at the table moved. People were barely even breathing.

The silence was so heavy you could almost feel it on your skin. Hector kept glancing between Lorenzo and Victoria, waiting for the room to basically explode. Monique stayed frozen in her chair, not daring to look up, probably thinking that if she stayed quiet, she could avoid the drama. Flash stopped grinning, watching Lorenzo with actual curiosity, wondering how his boss was going to handle this.

Under the table, Dahlia gripped the edge of the cloth, though her face stayed totally blank. Nash didn’t move a muscle. He just watched Lorenzo, like a player on a court waiting for the other guy to make a mistake.

Lorenzo hadn’t touched his drink. His fingers were just resting on the stem of the glass. He wasn’t lifting it, but he wasn’t letting go either. Nash noticed it; it was a tiny little tell that Lorenzo probably didn’t even know he was doing.

A few seconds passed. Then a few more.

Lorenzo just stared at Victoria. His jaw tightened, and you could tell he was thinking hard. He looked like a guy doing some really fast math in his head and realizing he hated the answer.

"You’re pushing that button awfully hard," he finally said, his voice low.

"I know," Victoria replied, not backing down an inch. "And you can’t do anything about it."

Another few seconds of silence. Then, which actually shocked everyone, Lorenzo nodded his head just a little bit.

"My apologies," he said, looking right at Nash and Dahlia. His voice was short, but he sounded so genuine that even Hector looked surprised. "That was beneath the point of this meeting."

"That’s more like it," Victoria said. She leaned back in her chair, looking satisfied. "Good. Now everyone knows where they stand."

Hector exhaled, looking at Lorenzo like he was seeing a totally different person. Monique’s shoulders relaxed a tiny bit, though she still wouldn’t look up. Flash leaned back, crossing his arms with a slow grin, like he’d just seen the best part of the night.

Dahlia finally let out the breath she’d been holding, her hands loosening in her lap. Nash just smiled, looking totally unbothered.

"Now," Victoria said. "Where were we?"

She turned toward Monique, acting almost lazy. Monique was sitting very carefully, like she was bracing for a hit.

"Tell me," Victoria said. "When they told you about tonight, did some small part of you think they’d actually just let you stay in that hospital bed? Or did you already know none of them cared enough to even ask? Honestly, I’m satisfied. It confirms what I told you."

Monique’s hands were clenched so tight that her knuckles were actually shaking. She looked like she was about to explode, her eyes were basically burning with rage though she wasn’t saying a single word.

Lorenzo didn’t even look her way. He just kept ignoring her.

Nash watched this go down and figured that was the whole point. Victoria hadn’t even needed to keep talking; the fact that Lorenzo acted like Monique didn’t exist said everything that needed to be said.

"Enough theater," Lorenzo said, setting both hands flat on the table, voice going heavier. "Let’s talk about why you’re actually here."

He looked straight at Hector as he said it.

"My son had one job. Keep the machine running quietly. Instead he turned a simple, profitable arrangement into a public trafficking scandal that’s currently threatening the whole structure I spent forty years building. That’s not a mistake. That’s a liability. Forty years, and this is what I get for the one thing I actually asked of him."

Hector’s hands curled at his sides. He said nothing.

"Let’s be serious about this," Lorenzo continued, turning fully toward Victoria now, "and skip the part where I pretend this is about sentiment. It isn’t. I don’t particularly like you. I don’t particularly dislike you either. I’ve spent thirty years not thinking about you at all, if I’m being completely honest, which I intend to be tonight, because I think you’re the only person at this table capable of appreciating honesty for what it actually is. A tool. Nothing more."

Victoria’s expression stayed the same, but you could tell she was slightly, very slightly, confused. For just a split second, her eyes widened, she was actually surprised that he just came out and said it so bluntly.

"You, on the other hand," Lorenzo went on, "took nothing, no name, no backing, no protection from me or anyone else, and built something that has an entire city’s politicians quietly falling in line behind you within months. Every rival dismantled or absorbed. Every threat neutralized before it even had the chance to form. Even our supports are under your control now. I’ve watched competitors twice your age with three times your resources fail to accomplish a fraction of what you’ve done in less than a year. I’ve been watching from a distance for longer than you’d probably like to know, Victoria. Quietly. Carefully. The way I watch anything I’m considering investing in."

"How flattering," Victoria said.

"I’m not flattering you," Lorenzo said. "Flattery costs nothing and means less. I’m telling you the actual math. I assumed, for years, that whatever softness you inherited from your mother would eventually outweigh whatever you inherited from me. Sentiment. Guilt. A conscience, God forbid. I was wrong. You buried that softness somewhere useful and built an empire on top of it instead, and I respect that far more than I respect anything my son has managed with every advantage I ever handed him." His voice hardened slightly. "That’s not a compliment either, before you mistake it for one. It’s an observation. I don’t reward good behavior, Victoria. I reward competence. You happen to have an abundance of it."

Victoria said nothing for a second. On the outside, she looked totally fine, like nothing was bothering her. But Nash was watching her really closely, and he caught it, that tiny flicker in her eyes.

It was that same look he’d seen on Lorenzo’s face earlier. That moment when you realize things aren’t going the way you planned and you have to quickly change your strategy in your head.

Victoria had walked into the room expecting one thing, but she didn’t get it. Instead, she got this cold, business-like kind of respect that felt more like a slap in the face than a compliment. She just stood there, her fingers twitching slightly against her side, trying to process that this was actually happening.

"I built Apex from zero," Lorenzo said. His voice had gone cold, like he was just talking about a business deal now. All the warmth was gone. He leaned back, crossing his arms.

"Forty years. Forty years of making sure that if one thing broke, the whole company wouldn’t crash. I had a backup for everything. A backup for the backup. And after all that work, look at who I have left. Just two family members."

He let out a short laugh that didn’t sound happy at all.

"One of them almost burned the whole place down because he thought he was smarter than everyone else. And then there’s you. Someone I spent thirty years pretending didn’t even exist. Yet, somehow, you built something way more solid and disciplined than anything Hector ever touched. And you did it all on your own, without a dime from me."

Lorenzo stopped talking for a second, just staring at her to see if she was shaking or if she was actually listening. He wanted to make sure it sank in.

"Do you get what I’m saying, Victoria?" he asked. "I’m not giving you a present here. I’m just fixing a mistake. Plain and simple, you’re the better choice. You’re the better asset."

Victoria didn’t answer right away. She felt a weird mix of shock and something else, maybe anger, maybe pride... no, definitely not pride, never... but something that could pass for rage and the will to just sink the audacity of this bastard. She slowly tapped her thumb against her palm, thinking it over.

"So, the reason you wanted this meeting, is because... you want me to take over Apex."