As the black limousine glided through the city, she sat stiff, her fingers twisting the hem of her dress.
Just yesterday she thought she was going to an art school across the country. But this morning, she was being shipped off to meet the man who wanted to buy her future.
Mr. Rowland Montero.
He had sent a limousine to pick them up.
Emma had not once glanced at her father who sat beside her. Her gaze stayed pinned toward the glass window, like a caged bird looking enviously at the free spirits walking the streets.
When the car stopped, the driver hurried to open her door.
The first thing that struck her was the central building, a glittering giant of glass that pierced into the sky. Up high in gold letters was the label:
'L&V Group.'
A piece of his empire.
"Come on, young lady. Don't stand there gawking," her father said.
The courtyard was alive and as Emma's heels clicked against the concrete pavement, security guards, clients, journalists, all eyes turned toward her. Emma was used to stares. That is what a perfect facial symmetry and flawless skin can do. Wherever she went, her beauty drew attention as effortlessly as light drew moths.
"Come, follow me dear," Mr. Galavan led the way.
At the main door, a mean-looking fellow stepped into their way.
"Excuse me!" Mr. Galavan said impolitely, "We have an appointment with Mr. Rowland."
"Can I see some ID," the man said.
Mr. Galavan retrieved his ID and the man stared at it.
"Mr. Galavan, you'll have to wait out here."
"Great!" Emma sneered.
"What kind of embarrassment is this?" Mr. Galavan bellowed.
Before the guard could respond, a roar split the air. Engines. Screams. And a great commotion ensued.
Emma turned, only to behold a spectacular sight like no other she had seen.
A black Lamborghini Urus led a roaring convoy of slick cars into the countyard-Cadillac Escalade SUVs, limousines, and a white Rolls-Royce Phantom. The air turned electric, phones rising to take pictures.
When the valet opened the limousine door, shiny black shoes flashed in the morning light as he stepped out. His black suit was neatly hand tailored, his tie silk and his hair freshly cut with precision.
The moment he appeared, the crowd rippled. Reporters surged forward, firing questions nonstop:
"Mr. Rowland, is it true you acquired Mora Beauty?"
"Do you think it's ethical to buy out your competition?"
"Mr. Rowland, Congratulations on the acquisition. Can we get a comment?" a female reporter thrust a mic toward him.
"Business. Nothing more," he replied calmly, barely stopping.
In that moment, Emma felt like a tiny insect in the middle of a vast football field. The man exuded this 'larger-than-life' aura that made both Emma and her father stare silently like they had been enchanted by a witch.
A crowd pressed against barriers, voices cracking with excitement as cameras flashed endlessly. Bodyguards flanked him on the sides, hands stretched out to keep reporters back as his coat fluttered slightly as he walked.
"Please sign my shirt, Mr. Rowland." A kid held out a blue T-shirt with an animated picture of the TV character, 'The Silver Wolf' on it.
He stopped. So did the entourage walking beside him.
"What do you have to say about 'Shining Beauty' lotion launched by Valerie Cosmetics recently?" A reporter asked loudly.
His eyes remained fixed on the shirt as he signed it, but his lips twitched slightly and his eyes narrowed, "No comment."
And with that he walked toward the massive skyscraper in front of the lot.
"Mr. Rowland, will you ever make a comeback to TV?"
He didn't answer or stop anymore.
Assistants scurried behind him, phones and clipboards tightly clutched in their hands.
"Mr. Rowland," Mr. Galavan blurted, rushing forward. "We've been waiting outside-"
"Let them through, Oswald," Mr. Rowland said and stepped through the revolving glass door without talking to Emma and her father. He didn't even look at them.
That left a bitter taste in Emma's mouth. She'd expected better.
The doors closed behind them and suddenly the chaos outside mutted, as if a storm had passed.
Inside the large hall-like lobby, everything sparkled. Marble, glass walls, chandeliers. A hush fell over the room as he walked in.
Everywhere he passed, people stopped in their tracks, "Good morning Mr. Rowland."
Secretaries, janitors and company officials alike. People stood still and straightened when he passed them. All he did was nod slightly in acknowledgement, a large group of people at his side and following him.
Mr. Galavan also followed. Emma walked behind him, feeling both invisible and like an intruder all at once.
They approached a large glass-walled room with a 'Board 1' sign on the door. Inside, a dozen executives sat stiff around a long table.
A woman intercepted Emma and her father. "You can't go in there."
"Mr.Rowland himself invited us here," Mr. Galavan protested.
"Sorry sir, Mr.Rowland has a meeting. You'll have to wait out here with his assistants." She said.
"Let them join us."
It was the unmistakable stone voice of Mr. Rowland.
When he stepped into the boardroom, every executive rose to their feet.
He didn't even glance at them as he strode in, now flanked by only two men in sharp black suits.
One of the men pointed Emma and her father to a row of chairs along the back wall.
Emma studied Mr. Rowland carefully. Tall, with sharp jaws and even sharper eyes, it was something about the way he carried himself that seemed to give him all his power and allure.
Mr. Rowland's cold gaze swept through the room, his palms rubbing together like a Mafia boss about to order an execution.
"Don't bother sitting. This won't take long." His voice was cool and calm.
Then he paused and the room was held captive by grave silence.
He took a few slow measured steps toward one of the executives with a tag labelled 'Head of Product Development' hanging from his neck.
A bead of sweat slid down the temple of Head of Product Development.
"Yesterday," Mr. Rowland said, "a rival company released a lotion with the same design and formula we developed."
He glanced at the morning papers on the table.
"One of you thought it clever to leak our design and pattern to our rivals. A product we spent millions perfecting was handed over, giftwrapped."
Although not in trouble herself, Emma couldn't help but feel the weight of his glare. Some heads bowed, others stared anywhere but at him.
His eyes fell back on the one man who was in charge of the project and before he asked, the man began to stammer an excuse.
"So, even Head of Product Development doesn't know the traitor." Mr. Rowland said.
He nodded at the guards.
The two men attacked, their coats swinging as they cornered the table towards Head of Product Development. Chairs scrapped on the floor as the man was dragged out. He begged and pleaded, but Mr. Rowland didn't look at him again.
Emma swallowed. The fear in the room was palpable.
"Leave the company ID at the reception." Mr. Rowland said. "Whoever is in charge, I want his name out of the playroll by noon."
The room trembled.
Mr. Rowland slowly paced back to the front, his footsteps echoing loudly in the otherwise grave-silent room. He stepped closer to the edge of the table and his fingers drummed it once, causing a couple of executives to flinch.
He turned to his next target. "Last quarter's sale."
Head of Sales straightened his neck tie, hands shaking. "Sir, we're still the market leader-"
"Yet our sales dropped by upto five percent."
Emma stood at the back of the room awestruck by the power this man commanded. A young face ordering grown men around, some old enough to be his parents.
"I can't blame that on you alone, though." Mr. Rowland eyed Head of Sales. "Find out what happened and give me a full report on what to do to improve sales. But if you can't deliver, I will find someone who can."
Head of Sales paled. He nodded frantically and scribbled notes like his life depended on it..
"Where's Gerald?" Mr. Rowland asked.
The young analyst was visibly shaken.
"You saw the drop long before it happened. I read your report, a little too late though. But Good work. Keep it up and you will climb higher than those you now answer to."
Gerald's tight face relaxed and he smiled from ear to ear.
"It's a shame your superiors ignored your warnings. Don't let small minds clip your ideas again. Next time send your work directly to me."
"Thank you, sir." The young man nodded.
"Lastly, we just acquired Mora Beauty."
Everyone clapped.
"And at the back, is Mr. Galavan from Glamour Cosmetics. We are finalizing a merger with his company too, so I asked him to be here with us today, seeing as we are going to be working together."
Everyone clapped again.
"Yes, we want total dominance. We are bringing this city down to it's knees."
He paused.
"That will be all. Everyone get back to work. And as always," he ended with his signature line, "Say no to mediocracy."
No one dared to move until the echo of his footsteps faded into the corridor. The moment he was safely out the room, everyone unfroze as he made for the elevator. A chatter broke out at once. Many collapsed to their chairs and some gentlemen loosened their neckties and leaned back exhaling loudly.
"Is he going to keep ignoring us like this," Emma said in frustration.
"Be careful not to bring this attitude when we meet Mr. Rowland, young lady." Her father warned. "This is the man who is going to save us all."
The same lady who had tried to stop them from entering the boardroom walked over to them and said, "Mr. Rowland will see you now."