Page 4 — The “Margin Call” He Thought Only Happened To Other People
Arthur’s voice dropped into something small. “You wouldn’t dare.”
He wasn’t protecting pride anymore. He was protecting liquidity.
“That would ruin me,” he whispered. “The factory… payroll… vendors…”
“You should’ve thought about that before you decided humiliation was a sport,” I said.
Eleanor jumped in, panicked. “Sophia, dear, it was a test—”
“It wasn’t a test,” I said. “It was an execution attempt.”
My thumb hovered for a beat—long enough for Arthur to understand this wasn’t emotion. It was governance.
Then I pressed the button.
COMMAND SENT.
Three seconds later, Arthur’s phone started vibrating on the table like it was trying to escape.
He stared at it, eyes wide.
“Pick it up,” I said.
He did.
We all heard the voice on the other end—sharp, frantic, professional panic.
“Arthur! The accounts are frozen. River City just called the loans. All of them. They’re demanding repayment within 24 hours or they seize assets.”
Arthur’s mouth opened, but no sound came out.
“Arthur, they’re locking the gates tomorrow morning,” the voice continued. “We’re finished.”
The phone slipped from his hand and cracked against the plate.
Arthur looked at me like I’d turned the room upside down.
“Why?” he rasped. “You have… more than enough. Why destroy me over dinner?”
I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to.
“Because you think money makes cruelty acceptable,” I said. “You needed to learn there’s always a bigger fish.”
I reached into my wine glass and pulled out the soggy scrap of his $5,000 check.
Then I dropped it into his bowl of soup.
“Bon appétit, Arthur.”
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
