Helena Brooks looked openly uncomfortable now.
A man from another table whispered something to his companion.
Margaret said, “I won’t ask again.”
Naomi stood.
The room shifted.
She was taller than Margaret by several inches.
The dark brown leather outfit gave her an almost architectural presence against the ivory ballroom.
Onyx rose simultaneously.
No bark.
No growl.
He positioned himself beside Naomi’s leg.
Margaret instinctively stepped backward.
Only half a step.
Enough.
Naomi noticed.
“He will not touch you.”
Margaret looked toward the dog.
Then Naomi.
“That is not reassuring.”
“It wasn’t intended to be.”
The security man moved closer.
“Ms. Carter, please.”
Naomi looked at him.
“You seem uncomfortable.”
He said nothing.
“Do you believe I should be removed?”
He hesitated.
Margaret answered for him.
“Daniel’s opinion is irrelevant.”
Naomi looked back at her.
“That explains a lot.”
Margaret’s face reddened.
Then she saw Naomi’s leather folder.
She reached.
Naomi moved first.
But Margaret was faster than expected.
She snatched the folder from the table.
Naomi’s expression changed instantly.
“Give that back.”
Margaret opened it.
“Chairwoman,” Daniel warned.
Margaret ignored him.
She pulled out the summit credential.
Then the trustee notice.
Then the sealed envelope.
Naomi stepped forward.
Onyx moved with her.
Security immediately tensed.
Naomi raised one hand.
Onyx sat.
Perfectly.
Every camera caught it.
Naomi said:
“You have taken private documents from me without permission.”
Margaret held the folder against her chest.
“I’m verifying access.”
“No.”
“You’re manufacturing authority you do not have.”
A murmur moved through the room.
Margaret’s face hardened.
Then something in her shifted from defensiveness into attack.
She held up the invitation card.
“Anyone can arrive in expensive clothing.”
Naomi went completely still.
Margaret continued.
“Anyone can have stationery printed.”
“Anyone can walk into a luxury hotel with a trained dog and expect people to assume importance.”
Naomi stared.
There it was.
Not explicit.
Not yet.
But exposed.
Several guests stopped recording and simply watched.
Margaret said, “This summit represents billions in confidential capital.”
“We do not allow theatrics.”
Naomi looked at her own clothing.
Then at Onyx.
“Theatrics.”
Margaret gestured toward her.
“This.”
The room tightened.
Naomi asked, “My coat?”
Margaret said nothing.
“My dog?”
Silence.
“My face?”
Daniel turned toward Margaret.
“Chairwoman.”
Margaret’s jaw tightened.
“That is not what I said.”
“No.”
Naomi’s voice became colder.
“You chose a safer word.”
Helena Brooks stood.
“Margaret.”
Margaret turned sharply.
Helena said, “Her credential scanned green.”
“I saw it.”
Margaret stared.
Helena continued, “I arrived fifteen minutes after her.”
“The concierge told me.”
Margaret looked toward the young man.
He looked terrified.