Chapter 41: You’re Ordinary
Richard’s scowl deepened as he tracked her gaze toward his mother. He let out a slow breath, his fingers reluctantly falling from her arm. "We will discuss what is wrong the second this dinner is over," he murmured, stepping back.
Roxanne gave a tight nod and moved toward the nearest empty chair. Richard stepped up immediately behind her, his large hands gripping the back of the chair to pull it out for her.
Just as Roxanne prepared to sit, Margaret’s voice sliced through the chatter of the room.
"Why don’t you sit over here next to me, Roxanne?" the matriarch called out, her tone dripping with performative sweetness as she pointed to the chair directly across from her own. "After all, this entire evening was hosted specifically for you."
The sudden silence at the table was deafening.
Roxanne looked from Margaret’s unyielding eyes to the chair. She couldn’t afford another infraction. "Thank you, Mrs. Vance," she said clearly.
She bypassed Richard entirely, walking down the length of the table to take the seat Margaret had designated.
Richard remained frozen at the other end of the room, his hands still gripping the empty chair he had pulled out for her. His face was a hard mask of pure confusion and rising anger, but Roxanne refused to meet his eyes, staring at her silver salad fork instead.
"Why don’t you take your seat, Richard?" Margaret asked, her voice smooth and innocent as she adjusted her silk napkin. "You know how rude it is to keep the table waiting during the first course."
Richard’s dark eyes burned into the side of Roxanne’s face for one more heavy, suffocating second. His knuckles turned white against the back of the chair. He stood frozen for a few suffocating seconds longer, his large frame casting a long shadow over the table before he finally dropped into his chair. His jaw was set like granite.
Sitting at the head of the table, Margaret watched him, a small, triumphant smile curving her lips. Roxanne could see the satisfaction radiating from her. Across the white tablecloth, Pamela caught Roxanne’s eye and slowly shook her head.
Roxanne forced her gaze away, scanning the table. Her eyes drifted from Margaret to the elderly man seated directly to her right. Even without an introduction, the striking resemblance made it obvious. This was Henry Vance, Richard’s father.
Roxanne lowered her eyes to her plate, the heavy silverware feeling like lead in her hand. The dining room grew uncomfortably quiet, except for the sharp sound of forks scraping against porcelain.
"I looked at your résumé this afternoon," a smooth, arrogant voice cut through the silence.
Roxanne looked up.
The speaker was a young man who possessed the exact, aristocratic features of Margaret Vance. He swirled the dark wine in his crystal glass, a condescending smirk playing on his lips. "It was remarkably ordinary."
Roxanne released a steadying breath through her nose. Here we go again. She braced herself, keeping her face an unreadable mask, refusing to let them see her frustration.
Every eye at the table locked onto the young man as he leaned forward. "So tell us, please," he continued, his voice dripping with faux curiosity. "What exactly did my brother see in your file that the rest of us somehow managed to miss? Or is this appointment simply a reward for services rendered elsewhere?"
Richard’s fork slammed against the table with a sharp, echoing clatter. "Watch your mouth, Nicholas," he warned through clenched teeth, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that vibrated through the room.
"I actually think your brother is right to ask, Richard," an older woman chimed in from further down the table. She turned a judgmental gaze toward Roxanne. "I am genuinely curious too. What exactly do you know about Vance Enterprises? No offense, dear, but you look like you know absolutely nothing about the scale of business discussed at a table like this."
Roxanne’s jaw clenched, but she held her composure. From the corner of her eye, she could see Margaret taking a delicate sip of wine, thoroughly enjoying the execution.
Before Roxanne could even formulate a response, a third voice cut across the linen. "Do you even know the net worth of the conglomerate you just joined?" a sharp-eyed man demanded, looking down his nose at her. "Do you even know who I am?"
Henry suddenly set his glass down, the sharp thud drawing immediate silence. "We are all executives at this table, and I will take that to mean we still understand the importance of order," the patriarch said, his deep, weathered voice commanding instant authority.
He looked around the table, his brows raised. "If you all keep barking questions at her at the same time, how is she supposed to give a proper explanation?"
Roxanne offered a small, grateful nod toward the older man. "Thank you, Mr. Vance," she said softly.
Then, she turned her full attention back to Nicholas. She squared her shoulders, her spine turning to steel as she leaned slightly forward.
"The reason I am sitting in this chair tonight isn’t because Richard handed it to me as a gift," Roxanne began, her voice carrying a crystalline clarity that commanded the room. "I am sitting here because I earned my place and scaled every single tier of the onboarding process with flying colors. And most importantly, I am here because my strategies have already made every person seated at this table a significant amount of money."
Margaret’s eyes narrowed into sharp slits, her glass freezing halfway to her lips.
Roxanne didn’t break to look at her. Instead, she shifted her gaze directly to the older woman who had questioned her background. "Mrs. Knight," she said.
Catherine’s eyes widened.
"She knows who Catherine is?" someone whispered.
Roxanne continued. "One of the most critical things I know about Vance Enterprises is that we absolutely cannot afford to let the Knight family’s capital move to our competitors. As one of our most vital majority shareholders, keeping your portfolio thriving is my top priority."
Catherine’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. She offered a slow nod, remaining quiet.
Roxanne then turned her gaze to the man who had demanded her financial literacy, a cool, confident smile playing on her lips.
"And Mr. Carter, you are indeed one of our most valued global partners. To answer your question, the company is currently valued at ten billion in fixed assets, one billion in outstanding liabilities, and an additional eighty billion in liquid cash reserves." Her tone radiated absolute, unshakeable authority.
For a split second, her eyes flickered toward Richard. His face carried a potent mix of intense pride and simmering concern, his dark eyes locked on her as if he were seeing her in a completely new light.
"I read your preliminary portfolio proposal," one of the international clients said from across the table, leaning forward with genuine interest. "You confidently promise a twenty percent increase in overall revenue. How exactly do you plan to achieve that kind of growth in this market?"
Roxanne kept her gaze locked on him, her posture oozing the quiet confidence of a woman who knew her worth. "Vance Enterprises has been sitting on a gold mine for the last decade, and that is the exact territory I intend to exploit."
Nicholas’s brows furrowed, his condescending smirk completely vanishing. "What territory? What do you mean?" he asked, his tone now genuinely curious.
Roxanne shifted her gaze back to him. "Millions of dollars pass through markets we don’t currently touch. Small manufacturers. Regional distributors. Independent suppliers. Everyone ignores them because each account looks insignificant," she explained smoothly. "Together, they are worth billions."
"That sounds impressive. Now convince me it isn’t just buzzwords." Nicholas pressed his lips together, his eyes narrowing as he tried to find a crack in her armor. "Who are the three biggest market competitors to Vance Enterprises?"
"Fuscia Enterprises remains our primary threat," Roxanne replied without a single second of hesitation. "Followed closely by Regent & Toms. And finally, we monitor the Riggs Group."
Absolute silence dropped over the dining room.
Roxanne looked around the table, calmly waiting for the next strike, but no one moved. The executives simply stared at her, completely disarmed. "If there aren’t any further questions regarding my credentials," she said smoothly, the sweetness in her voice masking a razor-sharp edge, "I would like to focus on my dinner now."
Richard slowly leaned back in his chair, the corner of his mouth lifting despite himself.