Arrow--Vengeance by Oscar Balderrama

Author:Oscar Balderrama
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Titan Books

4

Isabel strode through the doors of Queen Consolidated, wearing a deep red skirt suit, flanked by two members of her Stellmoor International acquisition team. The last time she had stepped foot in the building was over a decade ago, when Walter Steele had cast her aside unceremoniously, like so much trash, and Bobby and his security detail had forcibly removed her.

She didn’t expect to see Steele—he had cut ties with the company after his divorce from Moira. Bobby, however, was where she had last seen him, checking identification at the front desk, the years having done little more than add gray to his hair and pounds to his gut.

“Can I help you?” he asked.

“That depends, Bobby,” she answered. “Are you going to ask me to ‘stay put’ again?”

Bobby furrowed his brow, eyes squinting.

“Do I know you?”

“I told you the Queens would regret what they did to me,” she said. “Today I make good on that promise.”

Recognition began to dawn as Isabel and her team began to push past the security turnstile.

“Isabel! You’re Stellmoor International?”

“While you still have a job, Bobby, tell Mr. Queen that Ms. Rochev is on her way up.” She headed off toward the elevators, the click of her heels echoing in the hall.

* * *

As Isabel walked into the penthouse suite, memories came flooding back to her. Talking into the early morning with Robert, their bodies intertwined, plans made for a future he had lacked the spine to keep. He had always told her he liked her in red. She figured it was appropriate that she wore the color today, to mark the moment she began her takeover of his beloved company. She continued on toward the office that used to belong to Robert Queen, but was now occupied by his son.

Felicity Smoak intercepted her in the waiting area. Isabel looked the blonde woman up and down, taking in her blue form-fitting dress, leg exposed from lower thigh down. She wore glasses, as if the prop could somehow lend her legitimacy. Another hot-to-trot “assistant.”

Like father, like son, she thought.

How could this woman be responsible for the vigilante’s tech?

“Ms. Rochev? Hi, I’m Felicity Smoak, I’m with Oliver—not with with, just his assistant… not that there’s anything wrong with the secretarial arts but—” She paused, then said, “Can I interest you all in a bagel? We have some delicious schmeer.”

“My only interest is in talking to Oliver Queen,” Isabel said. “Where is he?”

“He’s running just a wee bit late. You know, traffic. If you’ll follow me to the conference room, I’m sure he won’t be much longer. And like I said, bagels!”

Isabel paused before she and her team followed Felicity down the hall, taking one last look at Robert’s old office. Soon, she would claim it as her own.

* * *

Normally, Isabel would have found Oliver’s tardiness surprising. Robert was always incredibly punctual. Then again, she knew his son was no businessman.

Finally he arrived, flanked by his African-American bodyguard, John Diggle, and Smoak. She hadn’t seen him since he had been a drunken teenager.

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