Chapter 5 - Confrontation at Ashford TowerThe grand marble lobby of Ashford Tower echoed with the heavy footfalls of armed men. Arthur Vale, a tall, silver-haired man with cold, calculating eyes, strode toward the private elevator bank, flanked by his personal security detail. Madison walked beside him, her face twisted in a mask of bitter humiliation and vindication.
“Mr. Ashford is currently engaged in a private security review,” the head lobby receptionist stammered, trying to block their path.
“Mr. Ashford is harboring a fugitive who stole corporate property,” Arthur Vale snapped, flashing the court order like a weapon. “Open that elevator, or I will have your entire security team arrested for obstruction.”
Before the receptionist could touch the console, the private elevator doors chimed and slid open smoothly.
Ethan Ashford stepped out into the lobby. His charcoal coat was unbuttoned, his hands shoved casually into his trouser pockets, and his expression was terrifyingly calm.
“Arthur,” Ethan greeted smoothly, closing the distance between them. “You’re looking remarkably stressed for a man whose daughter’s wedding is supposed to be tomorrow.”
“Save the charm, Ethan,” Arthur snarled, stopping a few feet away. “You’ve spent the last twenty-four hours disrupting corporate stability over a disgruntled maid. And now, according to my sources, you’ve smuggled that same girl down into our restricted archives to tamper with legacy files.”
Madison stepped forward, her eyes blazing with malice. “You humiliated me in front of all of Chicago for her, Ethan? A penniless maid whose father was a disgraced criminal?”
Ethan’s gaze shifted to Madison, and the coldness in his eyes made her instinctively take a step back.
“Watch your tone, Madison,” Ethan warned, his voice dangerously low. “Gabriel Reyes was a better man in his worst hour than your father has been his entire life.”
Arthur's face flushed a deep, furious crimson. “Enough of this nonsense! Guards, secure the elevator. We are going down to the archive to seize whatever stolen property that girl has laid her hands on.”
The three private guards stepped forward, raising their hands toward their holsters.
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At that exact moment, the glass revolving doors of the lobby spun open. Elena Reyes walked in, carrying a heavy, battered metal toolbox in her right hand. Her posture was straight, her chin held high, and her eyes locked entirely on Arthur Vale.
“You don't need to go down to the archive, Mr. Vale,” Elena said clearly, her voice cutting through the bustling lobby. “The evidence you’ve spent six years trying to bury is right here.”
