The Mysterious Chairman Keith

Laura's Fury

The silence in the apothecary was heavy, frozen by the presence of the woman who had just entered.

Laura Ivanovich’s heels clicked once against the marble floor — sharp, deliberate — and even that sound carried authority. Her eyes, cool as winter steel, swept across the room. The clerk flinched under her gaze; the manager looked as if he’d been turned to stone.

“Manuel,” she said, her voice smooth but edged with displeasure. “Why haven’t you gotten what you came for?”

The words alone were enough to shift the entire power dynamic. She didn’t even glance at the others. Her focus was entirely on him.

Manuel straightened slightly, keeping his tone calm. “There seems to be a misunderstanding. They didn’t want to accept the payment. Something about… credibility.”

Laura turned slowly, her expression cooling further with every second. “I see.”

Her gaze landed on the manager — who immediately straightened, mistaking her fury for the typical impatience of a demanding socialite.

“My apologies, madam,” he began hastily. “We were only following policy. If your—uh—assistant had informed us that you were the one purchasing—”

Pa!

The sharp sound of a slap cut him off mid-sentence.

The manager staggered sideways, clutching his cheek.

The entire store went silent again. Even Mrs. Stones’ smirk froze halfway across her face.

Laura’s voice was soft, but every word struck like a whip. “Assistant?” she said. “Is that what you think he is?”

“I—I didn’t—”

“You didn’t think at all,” Laura said coldly. “You saw a man who didn’t fit your shallow assumptions and decided you could treat him however you pleased.”

The clerk’s face turned pale. The manager tried again, stammering, “Madam, please—if he’s your servant, I only meant—”

Laura’s expression shifted — from cold to glacial. “Servant?”

This time, her tone alone made the lights seem to dim.

Even Manuel, calm as he was, could feel the weight of her aura pressing through the air. She wasn’t just angry — she was offended on a level that demanded respect.

“I should have you crawl to apologize,” she said quietly.

The manager opened his mouth to plead, but before he could, the glass door swung open again.

A middle-aged man in an expensive charcoal suit rushed in, nearly tripping over himself in his haste. His eyes widened the moment they landed on Laura.

“M-Ms. Laura!” he gasped. “Lady Ivanovich! You—you're here personally—”

The manager froze. His mind went blank.

Ivanovich.

His heart sank to his stomach.

The woman he had just insulted, the one he had called a socialite and assumed was with some penniless man — was The Laura Ivanovich, the iron-handed executive whose name could open or close entire industries.

Laura’s gaze flicked toward him, unimpressed. “You’re the owner?”

“Y-yes, ma’am,” the man stammered. “I came as soon as I heard you were here.” He turned sharply on his staff. “You idiots! Do you have any idea who you just offended?!”

The manager fell to his knees in panic. “Ma’am, I didn’t know—it was a mistake, I—”

“Fire him,” Laura said flatly. “And the clerk.”

The owner didn’t hesitate for a second. “You’re both dismissed. Effective immediately.”

The clerk started sobbing quietly; the manager tried to protest, but the owner snapped, “Get out before you make it worse.”

The two stumbled out, white-faced, their careers collapsing in real time.

Mrs. Stones watched, both horrified and confused. She still didn’t recognize Laura — only that she was clearly someone powerful, far above her in status.

“Excuse me,” she said sharply, trying to salvage her dignity. “I don’t see why you’re making such a scene over a misunderstanding. We were only trying to buy something. If you’re this man’s… companion, then surely you don’t need to resort to violence.”

Laura turned her head slowly, eyes glinting. “Companion?”

The faintest smile tugged at her lips — not warm, not friendly. The kind of smile that promised consequences.

Mrs. Stones hesitated, suddenly less confident under that gaze. “Well, yes. I mean, it’s obvious. He was here pretending to buy something he couldn’t afford, and now his lady friend swoops in to save him. Typical.”

Her daughter gave a soft, derisive laugh. “Mother, don’t be rude. Maybe they’re just dating. Though I can’t imagine how.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

Laura’s eyes flashed — a subtle, dangerous shift. The store’s temperature seemed to drop again.

The owner, realizing disaster was seconds away, rushed forward and bowed so low his forehead almost hit the counter. “Ms. Ivanovich, please! They didn’t know who you were — I’ll handle this at once!”

“Do it,” Laura said coldly.

He turned to Mrs. Stones and her daughter, face red with panic. “Out. Both of you. Immediately!”

Mrs. Stones recoiled, shocked. “You’re asking me to leave? Do you even know who I am?!”

“I don’t care,” the owner snapped, trembling. “You’re banned from this store. Don’t ever show your faces here again!”

“Y-you can’t do this!”

But the guards were already moving. Within seconds, both women were being escorted out — still sputtering threats and outrage.

“Unbelievable,” Mrs. Stones hissed as they were pushed toward the door. “Thrown out by some upstart woman and her charity case. The nerve!”

Her daughter, clutching her mother’s arm, whispered furiously, “Mother, calm down! People are watching!”

“Let them!” Mrs. Stones spat, glaring back through the glass at the figures inside — Manuel standing calm and unreadable beside the commanding woman who’d just turned the entire store upside down.

“Mark my words,” she muttered under her breath as they reached the car. “He’ll pay for this embarrassment.”

Once they were in, Mrs. Stones pulled out her phone, her anger sharpening into something cold and vindictive. She dialed.

“Lisa,” she said the moment her daughter answered.

Lisa’s voice came through faintly, hesitant. “Mother? What’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe who I just saw,” Mrs. Stones snapped. “That worthless boy you used to date, Manuel. He’s alive. And you’ll never guess what kind of woman he’s leeching off now.”

There was a pause on the other end. “…What?”

“Oh, don’t sound so surprised. We went to buy the Bloodroot Herb, the one we needed for Jamie’s gift to the new Nightingale Chairman, and he bought it before we could. Of course, he used his new girlfriend’s money. Some rich woman, arrogant and full of herself. You should’ve seen how she acted, like she owned the city.”

Lisa’s breath caught. “He bought it?”

“Yes,” her mother said sharply. “And if I hadn’t intervened, the clerk would’ve sold it to him without question. I saved us that embarrassment, at least. That's the important part.”

Lisa said nothing.

Her fingers trembled slightly around her phone as she stared out the window of her room, city lights reflecting in her eyes.

Manuel. Alive.

And not broken.

A flicker of confusion, maybe something else, crossed her face.

Her mother’s voice buzzed in her ear, still ranting, but she barely heard it.

All she could think of was the man she’d betrayed, the one she thought she’d destroyed, standing beside another woman, unbothered, untouchable.

And that woman’s name, though she didn’t yet know it, would soon shake the entire city.