"Charles, what are you going to do?" a coworker hissed. "You drank, you shouldn't have been driving in the first place, and now you've trashed Lorna's car! What if the Chairman gets angry?"
Charles felt a cold spike of genuine terror.
What if the Chairman found out he was the one who crashed it? Would he force Lorna to dump him?
"The front end is totally smashed. The repair bill is going to be astronomical, right?"
Lorna glanced over at Butler Avery, who was glaring at her with venomous disappointment, grinding his teeth. She stood paralyzed, too terrified to speak.
Charles lunged forward and grabbed Lorna's hands. "Lorna, I'm so sorry! I swear it was an accident. I truly didn't mean to. Please don't be mad at me. You're not mad, right?"
"I... I'm not mad at you," Lorna stammered. "I'm just worried about how I'm going to explain this to the Chairman—I mean, to my dad."
"Lorna, your dad adores you! You're his only daughter. He won't care about one ruined car. Just have it quietly towed and fixed before he notices! Please, I'm begging you. Forgive me."
Seeing the panic, Rachel Ward stepped in to mediate.
"Lorna, we came here to have a good time. Nobody wanted this to happen. Charles definitely can't afford to replace a car like this. But with a fleet like yours, one car is just a drop in the bucket. Let's just let it go, okay?"
The others quickly chimed in, agreeing with Rachel.
With her fake billionaire pride on the line, Lorna forced a stiff smile.
"Don't worry, I'm not angry. It's just a sports car. I have plenty more in the garage. I really don't care. Since we're done looking at the cars, let's head inside and grab some food."
She needed to get these people away from the scene immediately before they caused a bigger disaster.
As the group headed toward the main hall, Butler Avery marched up to Lorna.

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