The Mysterious Chairman Keith

Public Disgrace I

The lobby of Nightingale’s headquarters gleamed beneath the morning sun. The marble floors, towering glass walls, and a massive Nightingale emblem embedded in silver across the far wall were definitely attractive enough to make one stare a little too long.

Employees moved briskly about, the air alive with anticipation for the anniversary celebration to come.

Manuel walked through the main entrance, his steps calm, his gaze steady. To everyone else, he was just another sharply dressed guest arriving early, but to him, this place already felt like something more. It was his after all. But no one had to know that, did they? Maybe not yet.

Then came the familiar, grating voice. He'd acted like he didn't see them so he would avoid what was about to happen.

“Well, look who crawled back.”

Jamie Darwin’s tone dripped with mockery. He stood with one hand tucked casually into his pocket, the other resting on Lisa’s waist. She looked radiant — hair done, dress expensive — but the moment her eyes landed on Manuel, her poise faltered for half a breath.

“Manuel,” she said, her voice cool. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Jamie laughed. “What, you get lost on your way to the staff entrance?”

Manuel’s lips curved faintly. “No. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

Jamie exchanged a glance with Lisa, amusement gleaming in his eyes. “You? Here? Don’t tell me you’re trying to sneak into the Nightingale celebration. That’s a bit out of your league, isn’t it?”

Lisa folded her arms, her expression dismissive. “Jamie, don’t waste your breath. He’s just here to make himself feel important.”

Jamie grinned wider. “Still, it’s funny. You used to follow her around like some loyal mutt. And now? You think you can just walk in here?”

Manuel remained silent, calm. Too calm. The serenity in his gaze only seemed to irritate Jamie more.

“I heard,” Jamie continued, puffing his chest, “that today’s event is going to be huge. The Nightingale Group’s new chairman is supposed to show up personally. And guess what?” He leaned closer, lowering his voice to a mock whisper. “My father’s company has already secured a deal with them. By tomorrow, the Darwins will be a second-tier family. So, congratulations to me.”

Manuel met his gloating stare, then smiled genuine, almost pleasant. “Then congratulations,” he said, offering a hand. “You must be proud.”

Jamie blinked, thrown off by the civility, then laughed aloud. “Oh, don’t act polite now. You think shaking my hand will make you look like an equal? Sorry, buddy. We weren't on the same planet before but now, we’re not even in the same universe anymore.”

Lisa smirked beside him. “Jamie, don’t dirty your hand.”

Jamie sneered, pulling back his arm. “She’s right. You should stick to whatever gutter you came from. A place like this isn’t for people like you.”

A flicker of irritation passed through Manuel’s eyes, but his tone remained light. “You seem confident. But the world changes fast. I wouldn’t celebrate too early. Who knows if that partnership will even go through.”

Jamie’s expression darkened. “What did you just say?”

Manuel shrugged. “Nothing. Just a reminder not to get too comfortable.”

For a second, it looked like Jamie might swing. His hand twitched, his jaw clenched. But then he remembered where he was — Nightingale Group headquarters, surrounded by high-profile guests and staff. One wrong move, and he’d be the one disgraced.

He forced a laugh. “You know what? You’re right. I shouldn’t waste time on nobodies. And don't think I didn't hear about what you caused yesterday. Humiliating my Lisa's mother and sister. You'll pay for that.”

He turned toward the nearby security guards. “Hey! This man’s not invited. He’s been following my girlfriend around and causing trouble before. Get him out of here.”

The two uniformed guards approached quickly. “Sir, may we see your invitation?”

Manuel met their gaze evenly. “I don’t have an invitation,” he said.

Lisa’s lips curled. “See? He admits it.”

Jamie chuckled, shaking his head in mock pity. “You don’t even try to hide it anymore. What’s next, you’ll say you own the place?”

Manuel reached into his jacket pocket and took out a sleek, obsidian-black card with the Nightingale insignia on it. Its surface shimmered faintly under the lobby lights.

He held it up calmly. “Would this work?”

For a moment, both guards froze. The design was unfamiliar — unlike any of the standard guest passes they’d been issued. The older guard frowned. “Sir, where did you get that?”

“It was given to me,” Manuel said simply.

Jamie burst into laughter. “Given to you? By who? The janitor?”

Lisa covered her mouth, smirking. “Honestly, this is pathetic.”

The younger guard, emboldened by their tone, crossed his arms. “Sir, counterfeit credentials are a serious offense. We’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Manuel’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You’re sure about that?”

“Positive,” the guard replied firmly. “Now hand it over and step outside before we call the police.”

Jamie’s grin widened. “Hear that, Reeves? Maybe next time try printing a cheaper fake. The shine’s too obvious.”

Manuel sighed softly, slipping the card back into his pocket. He looked at Jamie once more, expression unreadable. “You never change, do you?”

Jamie tilted his head. “And you never learn.”

The guard stepped forward, reaching for Manuel’s arm. “Sir, I’m asking you one last time—”

The movement that followed was almost too fast to see.

A sharp crack echoed through the lobby.

Pow!

The guard was sent staggering backward, crashing into the marble wall with enough force to rattle a nearby display case. He slumped to the floor, groaning, one hand clutching his cheek.

Silence fell instantly.

Everyone froze — Lisa, Jamie, the remaining guard, the nearby staff who had stopped mid-stride. Even the elevator attendants at the far end turned to stare.

Manuel stood where he was, his posture relaxed, his expression calm. He hadn’t moved more than an inch, yet the power behind that single slap lingered in the air like thunder after lightning.

Jamie’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You—did you just—”

Manuel didn’t answer. His gaze was cold now, the earlier patience gone, replaced by something sharp and heavy that pressed against the room like a physical force.

The silence stretched, taut and dangerous.

Outside, the hum of traffic and city noise seemed distant and irrelevant.

Inside, everyone could feel it. Something had shifted.

Manuel slowly lowered his hand. “I warned you,” he said quietly. “You should’ve listened.”

The words weren’t shouted. They didn’t need to be.