Chapter 96 Adeline
Adeline's POV
"Put it on speaker." We were gathered in the living room of Zara’s penthouse. The atmosphere was completely different from the despair of yesterday morning. We were all focused this morning.
Zara sat on the edge of the sofa, her phone clutched tightly in her hands, and Alex stood like a statue by the front door with his arms crossed over his chest. Percy and I stood right behind Zara with Percy’s warm hand resting firmly on the small of my back.
Zara took a deep breath, her eyes darting to mine. I gave her an encouraging nod, and she hit the call button. The line rang twice before the smug bastard picked up.
"Zara, darling." A man’s voice purred through the speaker. He sounded exactly how he looked on paper, arrogant and dripping with entitlement. "I have to admit, I was getting a little worried. It’s Wednesday. Friday is approaching awfully fast."
Zara squeezed her eyes shut in frustration, but when she spoke, she channeled every ounce of her distress from the day before, making her voice tremble perfectly.
"I have it, Eric," she whispered, sounding utterly defeated. "I liquidated my grandmother's portfolio. I have the five million."
A triumphant chuckle echoed through the phone. My jaw locked, and beside me, Percy went completely still.
"I knew you'd see reason, sweetheart," Eric crooned. "You always were the smart one. Wire the funds to the account number I provided, and I will have the original ledgers destroyed."
"No," Zara said, her voice catching as she played her part flawlessly. "No wire transfers. If I'm giving you my family's money, Eric, I want to look you in the eye when I do it. I want to hand you the check myself, and I want you to look at me and promise this is over."
We all held our breaths as we waited for his response.
Eric's ego was his biggest weakness. The thought of Zara Whitmore, the untouchable socialite who had rejected him for years, sitting across from him in public, crying and handing over her fortune was too delicious for him to pass up.
"Ha, a face-to-face," Eric mused. I could practically smell his smugness through the speaker. "Very well. Let's make a date out of it. L’Aura in Midtown. Friday night, eight o'clock. I'll reserve the private booth in the back. Wear something pretty for me, Zara. I know you know what I'm talking about." He chuckled before the line went dead.
Zara dropped the phone onto the coffee table and let out a long, shaky exhale from the effort it took for her to not swear at him.
"You sold the damsel in distress well. He would never be able to guess what you have planned."
"He told me to wear something pretty." Zara shuddered with disgust.
"Oh, you're going to look beautiful, Miss Whitmore," Percy said smoothly. "Because you are going to be sitting safely in this penthouse, drinking champagne with Alex while Adeline and I go to dinner."
That was exactly what we did. L'Aura on a Friday night was the best time to see the elites of New York, especially in Manhattan in their element. The entire net worth in the room had to reach over a billion dollars.
The hostess stand was guarded by two men in tailored suits, ensuring that no one without a reservation and a massive bank account made it past the velvet rope.
At exactly 7:55 PM, the doors opened and Eric Weeks walked in. At least, he had his punctuality going for him.
He looked exactly like a man who was about to extort five million dollars. He wore a flashy Tom Ford suit that screamed "new money" and his blond hair slicked back perfectly. He practically strutted past the crowd, offering the hostess an arrogant smile.
"Eric Weeks," he announced loudly enough for the people nearby to hear. "I have the VIP booth in the back."
"Right this way, Mr. Weeks," the hostess murmured, grabbing a leather-bound menu.
Eric followed her through the tables with his chest puffed out.
He was already rehearsing what he was going to say to Zara. He was going to take the check, maybe reach across the table and stroke her hand, and tell her that if she was a good girl, he wouldn't come back for more in six months.
When they reached his special section, a woman was already sitting there with her back to him in a classy yet sexy black dress and her dark hair falling in soft waves down her back.
"Your guest has already arrived, sir," the hostess whispered, bowing slightly before retreating.
Eric smirked and adjusted his silk tie before stepping confidently into the private enclosure.
"You know, Zara, I have to admit, I didn't think you actually had the nerve to show up." Eric said smoothly, sliding into the curved booth opposite the woman. "But I suppose desperation makes people do what..." He couldn't complete the words because the woman sitting across from him wasn't Zara Whitmore.
I looked up from the glass of sparkling water in my hand and offered him a sharp smile. I was far from the desperate woman he was expecting. He didn't know it yet, but I was about to be his nightmare.
"Good evening, Eric," I said without any preamble.
Eric blinked, and his smug expression instantly melted. He looked around the empty booth and then back at me. "Who the hell are you? Where is Zara?"
"Zara had a prior engagement, so she sent me in her place."
"And who are you?"
"I'm her legal counsel, Adeline Volkov," I told her just as I pulled out a thick legal folder onto the table.
Eric’s eyes darted to the folder before he laughed. His attempt to be brave in the face of the calamity that was about to hit him was truly laughable.
"Legal counsel?" he scoffed and tried to project power, but his shoulders were stiff. "Zara sent a lawyer? Listen, sweetheart, I don't know what lies she told you, but there is no legal negotiation happening here. If she didn't bring the money, I am making a phone call right now, and the Whitmore estate will be front-page news by morning."
He reached into his jacket for his phone to show that he wasn't bluffing.
"I wouldn't do that, Mr. Weeks," Percy said next to me. Eric hadn't noticed at all that I wasn't alone. He jumped and his eyes bulged out of his sockets.
"Who the fuck are you and how did you get here?" Again with his false bravado.
Percy ignored his question to continue. "Because if you touch that phone, you will lose a couple of fingers."
Eric’s mouth opened, but no sound came out once he recognized the man sitting across the table from him. Anyone with money in this city knew who Percy Akilov was, and more importantly, there were unconfirmed rumors about Percy and his ties to the mafia.
"Mr... Mr. Akilov," Eric stammered. "I... I don't understand. What is this? What does Zara What does Whitmore have to do with you?"
Percy leaned his forearms on the table so he was closer to his face.
"Zara is a close friend of my fiancé," Percy murmured. "Which means Zara is under my protection, and you know what happens to people who touch my people?"
"Y... yes, Mr. Akilov."
"Good, so you will do exactly as Miss Volkov tells you."