Chapter 4: The Price of Entitlement

The executive boardroom of Monroe Global was bathed in a clinical, bright morning light. Perched on the fiftieth floor, the room offered a panoramic view of the city’s financial hub, but the true power lay inside. Selah Monroe sat in a recessed leather armchair in the adjoining, glass-walled viewing suite. The glass was entirely polarized; from the boardroom side, it looked like a flawless, opaque mirror. From Selah’s side, she could see every micro-expression of the people sitting at the mahogany conference table.

Beside her, a high-definition monitor live-streamed the audio and video from the boardroom.

"She’s early," Marcus Vance murmured, checking his vintage watch as he adjusted his navy suit jacket. "Ten minutes early. That means she’s either incredibly disciplined, or she thinks her family name gives her the right to bypass my secretary's schedule."

"It’s the latter," Selah said smoothly, her voice cool and level. She was dressed in an understated, tailored cream blazer, her dark curls pinned back loosely. Her eyes were fixed on the monitor, where Camila West was currently pacing the boardroom floor.

Camila was a vision of calculated corporate power. She wore a striking, blood-red designer pantsuit, a stark contrast to the muted tones of Monroe Global's minimalist architecture. Her diamond studs caught the fluorescent light, and her posture was rigid with a supreme, unearned confidence. Following the explosive fallout at the gala, Camila had taken it upon herself to intercept the Monroe Global rejection. She wanted to prove to Helena Knight—and more importantly, to a distant, rebellious Xavier—that the West media machine could move mountains that the Knights couldn't.

"Let her in, Marc," Selah commanded softly, leaning back and intertwining her fingers. "Let’s see exactly how old money begs."

Marc offered a sharp, knowing smirk, turned on his heel, and pushed through the heavy glass door into the main boardroom.

Through the monitor, Selah watched the interaction play out in flawless high-definition. Camila stopped pacing the moment Marc entered, her face shifting instantly into a practiced, dazzling smile that she usually reserved for high-society galas.

"Mr. Vance," Camila said, extending a perfectly manicured hand. "Thank you for taking the time to see me on such short notice. I know Monroe Global is incredibly selective, but I felt a face-to-face meeting was necessary to clear up what must be a massive clerical error."

Marc took her hand briefly, his smile polite but entirely transactional. "Miss West. I must admit, I was surprised when my office received a high-priority meeting request from the West Media Group regarding a logistics proposal submitted by Knight Real Estate. I wasn't aware your family had operational stakes in their eastern seaboard expansion."

Camila laughed, a light, dismissive sound as she sat down at the table, crossing her legs elegantly. "We are a tight-knit circle, Mr. Vance. The Knight and West families are, for all intents and purposes, a singular entity. Our impending merger means that a slight against the Knights is a slight against us. Which brings me to this automated rejection email our operations team received this morning."

She pulled a sleek, monogrammed tablet from her designer briefcase and slid it across the table toward Marc.

"Monroe Global flatly denied our initial consultation request," Camila continued, her tone dropping into a firmer, slightly sharper register. "The email cited a 'six-month vetting protocol' for new domestic clients. I’m sure you can understand why that is unacceptable for empires of our stature. The Knight-West development cannot be delayed by automated algorithms."

Marc didn't look at the tablet. He kept his eyes locked on Camila, his expression completely unreadable. "The algorithm didn't reject the proposal, Miss West. I did. Under the direct supervision of our Chief Executive."

Camila’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second, her jaw tightening. "Then I suggest you consult your CEO again. I don't think you quite grasp the leverage we bring to the table. The West Media Group controls the narrative in this region. We can ensure Monroe Global receives unprecedented, glowing coverage as you expand your tech footprint. Conversely..." She paused, letting the implication hang heavily in the air, her dark eyes narrowing with a passive-aggressive threat. "...we can make sure the public questions the security and exclusivity of your software. It would be a shame for a new-money tech upstart to face a public relations crisis just as you're trying to close international contracts."

In the viewing suite, Selah’s eyes flashed with a dangerous, brilliant heat. Camila wasn't just asking for a favor; she was attempting a corporate shakedown. She was using the exact same bullying tactics she had used on the rooftop, assuming that everyone beneath her social circle would bow to the weight of her family’s media influence.

Selah reached for her desk console, pressing the encrypted earpiece that linked her directly to Marc.

"Let her dig the hole deeper," Selah whispered into the microphone, her voice dripping with an icy authority. "Ask her what it will take to change her mind."

In the boardroom, Marc didn't blink. He subtly tapped his ear, absorbing Selah's command.

"Are you threatening a corporate blackball, Miss West?" Marc asked, leaning forward, resting his forearms on the mahogany table. He looked entirely unfazed, which clearly aggravated Camila.

"I am offering a mutual alliance," Camila corrected coldly, her aristocratic mask slipping entirely, revealing the volatile entitlement beneath. "But let’s be entirely realistic, Mr. Vance. Monroe Global is a ghost company. Your CEO hides in the shadows, your board is fiercely private, and you are currently playing gatekeeper to families who paved the concrete you built this tower on. We don't crawl, and we don't wait in line behind independent firms. If your elusive CEO wants to keep their pristine reputation intact, I suggest you bypass the protocols, fast-track the Knight proposal, and schedule an in-person signing by tomorrow afternoon."

She stood up, smoothing down her red pantsuit, assuming the meeting was over and she had won. "Xavier Knight is a busy man, and he doesn't have time to chase after tech coordinators. Have your CEO call his office personally to apologize for the delay. We’ll consider the matter settled."

"We won't be doing that," Marc said calmly, remaining seated.

Camila froze, her eyes widening in genuine, shocked outrage. "What did you say?"

"I said, we won't be doing that," Marc repeated, standing up slowly, his height completely dominating the space. He picked up her monogrammed tablet and handed it back to her. "Monroe Global does not respond to extortion, Miss West. And we certainly do not alter our global operations to appease the impatience of trust-fund heirs."

"How dare you—"

"This meeting is concluded," Marc interrupted, his voice dropping into a cold, professional finality. "Your family’s media empire can print whatever narrative it pleases. But as of this moment, the Knight Real Estate Group is officially blacklisted from ever purchasing or licensing Monroe Global technology. If the Knights want to save their logistics expansion, they can find another provider. Good day."

Camila’s face flushed a deep, furious crimson. Her breathing turned ragged as she snatched her tablet from his hand. "You will regret this, Vance. Your CEO will be begging for our forgiveness by the end of the week."

She turned on her heel and stormed out of the boardroom, the glass doors rattling in her wake.

A few moments later, Marc walked back into the viewing suite, loosening his tie with a low chuckle. "Well. She certainly has a theatrical way of burning bridges. Do you want me to alert the legal team about her PR threats?"

"No," Selah said, turning her leather chair around to face him. Her expression was completely calm, a devastatingly beautiful, cold smile playing on her lips. "Let her go back to the Knights and tell them she handled it. Let her tell Helena Knight that she officially locked them out of our infrastructure."

"And what about Xavier?" Marc asked, raising an eyebrow. "He’s the one who actually needs the software to save his development. When he finds out Camila completely tanked his company's future..."

"That is exactly the point," Selah said, her dark eyes gleaming with a calculating, sharp intellect. "Xavier Knight wanted to stay away from the corporate metrics? He wanted to escape his family’s mandates? Now he won't have a choice."

She stood up, walking toward the polarized glass, looking out over the city.

"When Helena realizes what Camila did, she will send Xavier to fix it," Selah continued, her voice velvety smooth but unyielding. "And when he comes to Monroe Global, he won't be dealing with an automated system. He will have to come to this very floor. He will have to sit in that very room. And he will have to personally beg for an audience with the CEO."

Selah took a slow breath, the psychological warfare of the corporate world setting her veins on fire. "Let's see how much his legacy is worth when he realizes the girl from the rooftop is the only person who can save him."