Chapter 4 - The Snake in the Boardroom
At 2:00 PM, the boardroom on the sixty-fifth floor of Anderson Global Tower was packed with executives, lawyers, and major shareholders.
At the head of the long polished mahogany table sat Thomas Anderson. Thirty-two years old, impeccably dressed in an Italian suit, with slicked-back hair and a smile that had won over half the board.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Thomas was saying, leaning forward with an air of grave concern. “I regret to inform you that my uncle, Maxwell, is currently unavailable. He failed to show up for the signing of the supermarket chain acquisition this morning. His phone is turned off. His security team has no idea where he is.”
A murmur of alarm swept through the shareholders.
“This is highly uncharacteristic of Maxwell,” Thomas continued, shaking his head with manufactured sorrow. “Over the past few months, I’ve noticed a decline in his focus. The stress of this merger... it may be taking a toll on his mental capacity. As Vice President, I am proposing an emergency board vote to grant me temporary executive authority to sign the acquisition documents before the market closes.”
“Is that legal, Thomas?” one of the older board members asked.
“Under Section 4 of our corporate bylaws,” Thomas declared, gesturing to his lawyer, “if the Chief Executive is deemed incapacitated or unaccounted for during a critical transaction, the designated successor may step in.”
“Section 4 requires my written consent, Thomas.”
The double doors at the back of the boardroom swung open with a heavy bang.
The entire room fell dead silent.
Maxwell Anderson walked into the room. He was still wearing his suit from the morning, rumpled and stained at the knees with dried mud. His tie was undone, his eyes were bloodshot, and he had not shaved. But he carried an aura of absolute, terrifying power that made every person in the room instantly sit up straight.
Thomas froze, the color draining from his face. “M-Maxwell! Uncle! We... we were worried about you. You missed the signing—”
“I didn't miss it, Thomas,” Maxwell said, walking down the center of the boardroom with slow, deliberate steps. “I delayed it.”
“Maxwell, the shareholders were nervous,” Thomas stammered, putting on a worried expression. “You weren't responding to calls. Where were you?”
Maxwell stopped right beside Thomas’s chair. He placed both hands flat on the mahogany table, leaning down until his face was inches from his nephew’s.
“I was at St. Jude’s Hospital,” Maxwell said, his voice dropping into a low, deadly register that only Thomas could hear. “Holding my granddaughter’s hand.”
Thomas’s eyes widened in sudden, absolute terror. His breath hitched.
“What... what are you talking about?” Thomas whispered, trying to keep his composure.
Maxwell straightened up and faced the entire board of directors.
“Effective immediately,” Maxwell announced, his voice echoing across the sixty-fifth floor, “Thomas Anderson is removed from his position as Vice President of Anderson Global. His access to corporate accounts, legal records, and company property is revoked. Security will escort him out of this building within three minutes.”
The boardroom erupted into chaos. Shareholders gasped, lawyers began shouting questions, and board members stood up in confusion.
“Maxwell! You can’t do this!” Thomas screamed, pushing his chair back and standing up, his polished facade completely cracking. “You’ve lost your mind! You’re throwing away the merger over some crazy delusion!”
Maxwell didn't even look at him. He motioned to two massive security guards standing at the entrance.
“If Thomas sets foot on any property owned by Anderson Global again,” Maxwell told the guards calmly, “have him arrested for corporate espionage and extortion. Start with his private bank accounts in the Cayman Islands.”
Thomas turned pale. He opened his mouth to speak, but the guards grabbed him by the arms, dragging him backward toward the doors.
“You’re an old man, Maxwell!” Thomas shrieked as he was dragged down the corridor. “She’s nothing! Her mother died in the dirt! You have no proof! You have no proof!”
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Maxwell pulled a small, silver anchor-and-rose bracelet from his pocket and laid it gently on the table.
“I have all the proof I need,” Maxwell said quietly.
