Charles was thrilled at the idea of having a new investment, and was instantly thrown into good spirits. When it was time for the meeting, he walked in confidently, while still keeping a humble appearance. Mr. Holmes was seated at a window seat in the restaurant they had agreed to meet. He stood up. He was quite the burly type with a wave of long hair, brushed to his right. Not only that, but he was fit, and had an intimidating aura, but age had begun to tell on him. To Charles, he looked to be in his early fifties, and his wealth was not to be spoken of lightly. “Finally, we meet.” Mr. Holmes said, in a deep, but cheerful voice, holding out his hand for a handshake, and Charles extended his, politely. “It is such a pleasure to meet with you, Mr. Holmes.” Charles remarked, as they sat. “I assure you, it is the same with me. I've been interested in your company for a while now, and I wondered why I was so interested, until I realized it was because I had to invest.” Mr. Holmes laughed at the lightness of his words, and Charles did too. “Over here.” Mr. Holmes called, clapping his hands, as he called for a waiter who was walking around, so the customers could easily get their orders. “What would you like to eat?” Mr. Holmes asked, taking up the menu. “I'll go with whatever you order, sir.” Charles replied, and Mr. Holmes laughed, nodding. “I like that.” He replied, then turned to the waiter. “Get us the most expensive steak you have.” He replied, dropping the menu, then turning back to Charles. “Where were we?” Charles, and Mr. Holmes, didn't talk for long. By the time it was a little over thirty minutes, they had agreed on what the both of them wanted, gone over the agreements once more, and eventually signed the contract. “It was a pleasure meeting you.” Charles said, as they shook hands once more, before Mr. Holmes took off in his car. Charles couldn't believe his luck. How could he have signed a contract as easily as that? There were no problems, no hurdles… They had simply talked like men, and it had been worth the time. Vera, who had been having ice cream nearby, walked up to him, smiling. “Was it a success?” She asked, still smiling. “Tell the new employees we just secured a contract. They're invited to a company dinner tonight. You're in charge, Vera.” Charles replied to her, and her hand flew to her mouth. “A company dinner? That's so rad! But wait, that's a lot of work.” “Alright, maybe we'll just cancel the company dinner, and…” “No way. I'm definitely not feeding on pizza tonight again.” She objected immediately, thinking about how she had been so busy that she couldn't even make herself a proper meal. When Charles got home, he took a shower, and got himself some fruit, but as he did, he couldn't help, but remember his maid. Why had she done that? Looking at it, she had no motive behind her act. He knew people who attempted murder, or actually murdered with poison, had a motive, a drive pushing them to do it, but he couldn't think of one that could have driven her to do it. She was quiet, humble, caring, and very hardworking. He had never, for once, had a problem working with her, so what grudge could she have had against him? He really couldn't think of any. Charles contemplated going to her, and asking her reasons, but he felt it was a little stupid, and that he was attaching himself too much to something that could end up making him feel worse. It was just something about humans. The urge to betray. They never did things for tangible reasons. It was either out of jealousy, or simply pure hate. Either of those reasons, and they'd use it as an excuse to harm a person. Charles didn't want to think about it, but he couldn't help himself. He was curious. What was her motive? He paid her well. Did he offend her? That couldn't be it. He was the busy type, so he couldn't begin to wonder when, and how he had offended her with his words, or actions, and apart from all that, he was humble, and respected her. Charles didn't stop thinking about the motive behind her attempt to kill him, until he slept off. He awoke in the afternoon, and began to prepare for the evening's celebrations, by picking out a nice Tuxedo. It was something he could have simply dressed casually for, but he wanted to look dashing always. “Let's call Vera, and see how she's doing.” He muttered to himself, as he crossed his room from his wardrobe to his bedside table, where he had dropped his phone. He picked it up, and dialed Vera's number. “I believe everything's ready? The dinner reservations at any restaurant with wonderful food, and the invitations?” He asked, putting his other hand in his pocket. “You're going to love it.” She assured him, and indeed, when Charles walked into the restaurant Vera had reserved, later in the evening, he was impressed. Marble floors, neat chairs, and circular tables, looking like they had been polished to perfection. A beautiful chandelier hung on top, and the lights were adjusted to suit the cool, friendly atmosphere. Waiters, and waitresses were dressed beautifully, and the aroma of deliciously prepared food couldn't help but mingle in the air. Surprisingly, the employees were all there, and the restaurant was full. He was the last to walk in. They all bowed, but he waved it off. Food, and drinks were served. Every man according to what his palate preferred. And before they ate, Charles explained the reason for the sudden party, and encouraged them to keep up the hard work. They all cheered, and clapped, and the air was alive with the tinkering of plates, calls for waiters, and waitresses, and joyful conversations. Charles also enjoyed the dinner a lot. Everyone had full-course meals of their choice, and dessert was served after. The new employees also used the opportunity to ask questions, and they were given answers by the higher-ups. Most of them were so innocent in their questions about business that it made Vera crack up, and in minutes, she realized she had to use the restroom. Lest, she laughed again, and her bladder gave up on holding back its liquid. Questions, and answers continued to fly across the room, and there was not a dull face around. Everyone seemed excited. Then, the door was pushed open, and a group of men walked in. “This is a private dinner. Didn't you see the sign outside…” A man was saying, as he stood on his feet to protest, but everywhere exploded in short gasps, as one of them suddenly took out a gun, and pulled the trigger. The man fell, crumpled to the ground, and everywhere fell silent. “Who wants to go next?” The man asked, in a cracked voice, but the silence remained unbroken.