Chapter 6 - The Boardroom Trap
At 1:55 PM on Thursday, the executive boardroom on the 40th floor of Vance Forensic Analytics was filled with nervous energy.
The seven members of the board sat around the massive polished mahogany table, whispering among themselves as assistant attorneys handed out bound thick stacks of takeover documents. At the head of the table sat Arthur Sterling—a tall, tanned man in his late sixties wearing a bespoke three-piece navy suit, a gold Patek Philippe watch, and an air of absolute, smug invincibility.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seats," Arthur announced, clapping his hands together with practiced authority. "We all know why we are here today. The tragic events in Cancun involving our former CFO, Mark Vance, have placed this institution in unprecedented peril. With Evelyn Vance implicated in a federal homicide inquiry, we must act decisively to stabilize the firm."
He picked up a heavy silver pen, turning to the corporate secretary. "I move to execute Emergency Motion 41, terminating Evelyn Vance's executive authority and transferring interim voting control to Marlowe Holdings."
"I second the motion," one of Arthur's paid board puppets declared immediately.
"All those in favor—" Arthur began.
BANG.
The heavy double doors of the boardroom swung open with thunderous force, slamming against the wood-paneled walls.
Every head in the room turned.
I walked into the boardroom calmly, holding a leather folder under my arm. I was dressed in a tailored crimson suit, high designer heels, and my hair pulled back into a sleek, flawless knot. Behind me walked Eleanor Thorne and two uniformed officers from the Federal Financial Crimes Enforcement Network.
Arthur dropped his silver pen, his mouth opening slightly before he caught himself and forced a smooth, arrogant grin.
"Evelyn," Arthur said, standing up and spreading his hands in mock concern. "My dear, what are you doing here? This is an internal board meeting. Given your current... legal complications, you really shouldn't be stressing yourself."
"The only person with legal complications in this room, Arthur, is you," I said, walking straight to the empty chair at the opposite end of the long mahogany table.
I pulled out the chair and sat down, resting my hands flat on the polished wood.
"You're too late, Evelyn," Arthur sneered, leaning over the table. "I own thirty-four percent of the voting shares. Combined with the board's proxy votes, I have absolute control. You're out."
"You owned thirty-four percent at 1:00 PM, Arthur," I corrected him smoothly, opening my leather folder. "At 1:15 PM, the Securities and Exchange Commission issued an emergency freeze on all shares owned by Marlowe Holdings due to evidence of illegal short-selling, insider trading, and grand-scale embezzlement."
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Arthur’s smug smile faltered. His eyes flickered toward his lead attorney sitting beside him. "What is she talking about?"
"She's talking about the eight million dollars Mark stole for you," Eleanor announced, tossing a hundred-page federal indictment packet onto the center of the table. "Along with the audio recording from Chloe Bennett’s hospital room in Cancun, identifying your private operative as the person who purchased the lethal dose of poison used to murder Mark Vance."
