Chapter 2 - The Worthless Brass Key
Frank pulled his hand from his vest pocket and gently laid a heavy, tarnished brass key onto the white linen tablecloth right beside Ethan's crystal wine glass.
Under the warm chandelier light, fine hand-engraved letters gleamed faintly across the vintage metal: C.H. 001.
"Keep this, Ethan," Frank said in a quiet, steady voice that never wavered despite the security guards gripping his arms. "You’ll know why soon."
Ethan glanced down at the vintage key, letting out a sharp, mocking laugh that echoed across the quieted dining salon. He picked it up between two fingers as if it were a piece of contaminated trash.
"What is this worthless junk?" Ethan sneered, tossing it back onto the table where it clinked against a silver fork. "Some antique souvenir from your failed hardware shop? You think a rusty piece of brass gives you the right to sit with elite investors?"
Lily wiped a tear from her cheek, leaning closer to Ethan. "Ethan, stop it. He's leaving. Just let him walk out."
"No, Lily," Ethan snapped, turning his cold glare onto her. "I paid fifty thousand dollars to rent this penthouse salon for my venture capital celebration. I won't have an old, broke carpenter in a stained vest ruining my networking night!"
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Ethan motioned to the guards with a sharp flick of his wrist. "Drag him out to the service elevator. Don't let him back into the building."
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