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Sophia Borden tried not to grit her teeth as she struggled to hide the rage welling up inside of her.
    She was standing in front of six of the biggest investors in the city and she was so nervous that she was almost shaking. Why did this have to happen to her? Why now?
    Everything had been going well and she had actually felt like she was getting somewhere with Max Dowell—the most respected member of the group-- when Brad Thorpe decided to mess with her.
    Brad was the hot shot of the group. He was the youngest member of the investors, whom had become known as The Wrecking Crew, because they were able to wreck your dreams by just a few carefully selected words. If they passed on your start up then it was almost impossible to get any other investors worth their salt to take a chance on you. Even the low level investors would not touch you. It was a rite of passage and a huge honor for a brand new business startup owner to be backed by one of The Crew.
    Most of them were pretty reasonable and would tell you exactly why they thought you should or should not be in business. But then there was Brad. He had become a millionaire at a very young age in the real estate game and had branched out to invest in a lot of other businesses since then. He had his hands in everything from kitchen gadgets to game systems. The man was everywhere.
    He was also the most arrogant jerk that Sophia had ever seen. She had been warned about him, but what she had been told was an understatement to his true evil ways.
    Sophia was trying to get capital investment for her clothing company. She thought that there were not enough good designer quality clothes for the full figured woman to wear in the professional world. It was severely lacking and what was out there was boring and overpriced. Sophia wanted to change that.
    “What is the marketing strategy? How many units have you sold so far?” Brad had asked basically cutting Max off. Max and Sophia had been discussing the reasons why this was such an important niche to fill in the world when Brad had roared over top of everything with his overbearing ways.
    “Well, the marketing strategy is to invest in a few commercials, set up ads in magazines and websites that cater to the plus sized woman, and also by word of mouth. As far as the units sold, with the earliest stages of production in our test markets we have sold ten thousand units this year and cleared a profit of almost thirty thousand.”
    “Wow, that is not a great return on investment, now is it?” Brad asked. He smiled as he looked at everyone else’s reactions. Most did not pay him much attention, but they did seem interested in the points he was making.
    Sophia felt her face growing redder with anger every second. She wanted to destroy this asshole.
    “It is not bad when you look at our startup and production costs so far,” Sophia said. “That is one of the reasons why my company needs more capital. With more capital we can manufacture in greater bulk and thus reduce the cost of manufacturing and the cost of the product as well which will yield greater profits.”
    Brad laughed. “What made you want to get into this market? Were you once fat or something?” Brad could hardly contain his laughter as he said it.
    Sophia wanted to strangle the man so badly. He was the most conceited piece of shit she had ever laid eyes on. And it was a shame because he would have been gorgeous if he had never learned to speak.
    “That does not have a thing to do with why I started this business,” Sophia said. “I have several friends who have always complained about the fact that they can’t find good, reasonably priced, business attire that looks decent.”
    “I think it is a great niche,” Warren Rogers said. The old man had been silent for most of the meeting, but when he finally spoke it was like a breath of fresh air. Sophia felt the rage that she had been aiming at Brad lessening just a little bit.
    “Thank you,” Sophia said, surprising