Chapter 15: Welcome, Mr. Sanderson
"Evie, don't go too far!" Henson shouted through gritted teeth. The eldest son of the Cairon family, no one dared provoke him—except Evie. His car was totaled, his leg injured, and he still hadn't had a chance to discuss the cooperation.
"Security, see him out!" Evie commanded coldly. Tall and sharp-featured, she resembled an ice queen.
The security guard fetched a wheelchair, bundled Henson into it, and wheeled him from Willard Villa.
"I can walk myself!" Henson cried out, indignant and humiliated. The whispers and snickers of onlookers stung. The heir of the Sen Tale Group, bullied—how pathetic.
Trevor thought, I wish I could be as domineering as my sister one day.
Evie turned to him. "Brother, are you okay?" Her demeanor instantly softened; she was gentle and affectionate, a stark contrast to her usual cold unforgiving nature. The staff were astonished; they'd never seen her like this.
"I'm okay," Trevor said, shaking his head. "Sorry for the trouble, sister."
"It's okay," Evie replied, smiling. "Dad should have told you: you're inheriting not only Willard Villa, but all the shops on this commercial street. Everything you see belongs to our family."
She waved, and her secretary approached. "Gather all the manor staff," Evie ordered. The secretary nodded.
Five minutes later, over a thousand staff, all in identical black uniforms, filled the vast golf course, transforming its green expanse into a sea of black. They stood in formation, awaiting Evie's announcement.
With Trevor at her side, Evie addressed them. "All of you, listen. From now on, my brother, Trevor Sanderson, will be the boss of Willard Villa!"
The staff—security, managers, all—bowed respectfully.
"Welcome, Mr. Sanderson!" they shouted in unison. Their voices resonated across the course. Trevor stood dazed. Is this what it feels like to be the boss? Everyone respects you, he marveled.
In the crowd, the receptionist who'd humiliated him paled.
"Brother," Evie said pointedly, "an employee reported that the receptionist disrespected you."
Everyone watched Trevor, breath held. Respect mingled with fear in their eyes. A change in management often meant staff changes. Willard Villa offered competitive salaries and benefits; many coveted their positions.
I'm the boss now. How do I handle this? I don't know what to do, Trevor fretted, anxious and unsure where to put his hands. The receptionist trembled.
Suddenly, she rushed to Trevor, standing timidly before him, head bowed, lip bitten. To everyone's surprise, she pulled down her collar, revealing much of her chest, and looked up apologetically. Fear etched on her face elicited pity. Trevor flushed; a girl had never approached him before.
But then, remembering the receptionist's earlier behavior, disdain replaced his surprise. Willard Villa is mine now. If employees disrespect guests, the manor's reputation suffers. He recalled a boss's demeanor he'd seen on television.
He cleared his throat. "I have a question," he said in a deep voice. "Is this how you treat guests?"