Chapter 7 - The Ghost's Shadow
Weeks passed. The city moved on, oblivious to the quiet destruction of one arrogant lawyer. The socialite circles buzzed with new gossip, new scandals, and new money. But in the underworld of corporate elites, a silent warning had rippled through the ranks: Do not look too closely at the woman in the plain clothes.
Sadi found herself returning to the galleria on a crisp Tuesday afternoon. She wore her standard uniform: loose denim, comfortable sneakers, and a soft sweater. But this time, the atmosphere was entirely different.
As she walked through the polished marble halls, shop owners stepped out of their boutiques to offer polite, respectful nods. Security guards stood a little straighter when she passed. The invisible weight of Roman’s protection preceded her like a royal procession.
She stopped outside a small, artisanal bakery nestled near the exit of the mall. A young woman behind the counter dropped a tray of pastries, her hands trembling as she scrambled to pick them up. Her manager, a red-faced man with a booming voice, was screaming at her in front of a line of customers.
“You clumsy idiot! Do you know how much those cost? You're paying for every single one out of your paycheck!”
Sadi stopped. She looked at the young girl on the floor, her eyes brimming with tears, hastily apologizing. It was a mirror. A painful, vivid reflection of who Sadi used to be.
Without a word, Sadi stepped out of the flow of pedestrian traffic and walked into the bakery. The manager stopped yelling mid-sentence as she approached the counter. He took one look at her plain clothes and sneered.
“We’re closed for a spill. Give us five minutes.”
Sadi didn't blink. She reached into her pocket, pulled out a sleek, obsidian black credit card with no numbers—only the crest of Blackwood Enterprises—and set it gently on the glass counter.
The manager’s eyes widened, his face draining of all color. He knew that crest. Everyone in the city’s commerce sector knew that crest.
“I’ll buy the ruined pastries,” Sadi said, her voice calm and even. “And I’ll buy the rest of the inventory for the day. Send it to the local shelter.”
The manager stammered, “M-ma'am, I… I didn't realize…”
“And,” Sadi continued, stepping closer so only he could hear, “if I ever hear you speak to an employee like that again, I won't just buy your inventory. I will buy this building, and I will bulldoze it with you inside. Do we understand each other?”
May you like
The manager nodded frantically, terrified sweat pooling on his brow.
Sadi turned to the young girl, offering her hand. The girl looked up, stunned, and took it. Sadi helped her to her feet, gave her a gentle smile, and walked out of the bakery. She didn't need to shout. She didn't need to throw a tantrum. She had learned from the Ghost. Power was silent.
