Chapter 8 - The Confrontation in the Boardroom
Kenneth Brennan stood trapped under the brilliant white lights of his daughter’s empire, his lungs laboring for air. The numbers on the giant display screen seemed to mock him, glaring down like an itemized invoice of his total irrelevance.
He looked around the room. The young engineers, the receptionists, the security guards—they weren't looking at him with fear or respect. They were looking at him with absolute disgust.
“You humiliated me,” Kenneth croaked, his pride desperately trying to construct a defense out of nothing. “You let me believe... you let the whole town think I had turned things around! You set a trap for me!”
“I didn't set a trap, Kenneth,” a new voice spoke from behind him.
The glass doors of the elevator vestibule slid open.
Joanne stood there.
Her hair was windblown from the underground parking garage, her coat was unbuttoned, and she held a worn manila folder clutched against her chest. She looked exhausted, her face lined with grief, but her eyes were completely clear.
“Mom?” Tyler whispered, shrinking back slightly.
Joanne walked into the atrium, her boots clicking softly on the floor. She didn't look at Kenneth. She didn't look at Tyler. She walked straight past them until she stood in front of Lucia.
“Mommy,” Lucia whispered, the armor on her face slipping for the briefest fraction of a second.
Joanne held up the manila folder. “I found your tax returns from when you were twenty-two, Lucia. In the attic. The ones your father told me to throw away because you ‘wasted your life on computers.’”
Joanne turned slowly to face her husband.
“He knew,” Joanne said, her voice trembling with a quiet, terrible rage that Kenneth had never heard from her in forty years of marriage.
Kenneth stiffened. “Joanne, be quiet. You don't know what you’re talking about.”
“He knew, Lucia,” Joanne continued, ignoring Kenneth completely. “Two years ago, when the first large wire arrived from Texas, the bank called the house. Kenneth answered the phone. I heard him in his office, arguing with the manager. The manager told him the funds were originating from Meridian AI in Austin. Kenneth hung up the phone, walked into the kitchen, and looked me in the eye and told me the supplier consortium had cleared our accounts.”
Lucia felt the breath leave her chest. She looked at Kenneth.
Kenneth’s eyes darted away, unable to hold her gaze.
“You knew?” Lucia whispered.
“He knew,” Joanne repeated, a single tear cutting through the dust on her cheek. “He knew it was your money. But his pride was so monstrous, so sick, that he couldn't stand the thought of anyone finding out his daughter had rescued him. So he took your money, he spent your money, he gave it to Tyler to make Tyler feel like a big man... and then he convinced himself that he was doing you a favor by letting you send it.”
Tyler looked between his mother and father, his jaw slacking in genuine shock. “Dad? You knew? You told me... you told me you were paying for the boat!”
“I was!” Kenneth shouted, cornered, his voice rising into a desperate, feral shriek. “I raised her! Every breath she took as a child was paid for by my sweat! If she made seventy million dollars, whose genetic material made her smart enough to write those programs? Mine! Who bought the food that kept her alive? Me! That company belongs to the Brennan family! You owe me fifty percent of this firm, Lucia! Fifty percent! I will sue you in federal court! I will take everything you have!”
Frank, the lead security guard, moved instantly, placing a massive hand on Kenneth’s shoulder. “Sir, step back. Right now.”
“Get your hands off me!” Kenneth snarled, swatting at Frank’s arm. “Do you know who I am? I am the father of the CEO!”
“Frank,” Lucia said calmly.
The guard stopped.
Lucia walked over to her desk, picked up a single sheet of paper that had been sitting near her keyboard, and walked back.
“This is an official Cease and Desist and Trespass Notice,” Lucia said, extending the paper toward Kenneth. “Drafted this morning by Henderson & Vance. It bars Kenneth Brennan and Tyler Brennan from any property, subsidiary, or residential holding owned by Meridian AI or myself.”
Kenneth glared at the paper as if it were poison.
“Take it, Dad,” Lucia said quietly. “Because if you take one more step forward, or if you ever contact my daughter, my office, or me again, Mr. Vance will hand the security footage of this entire encounter to the Austin Police Department and file felony harassment and extortion charges.”
Kenneth stared at the paper. His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow gasps.
“And Dad?” Lucia added, her voice dropping into a register of utter finality. “I also purchased the secondary debt on the Hartwell house yesterday morning through my commercial holding company. The mortgage is now held directly by Meridian Real Estate Group.”
Kenneth’s head jerked up, horror flashing across his features. “What?”
“The house is mine, Kenneth,” Lucia said, calling him by his first name for the first time in her life. “You have thirty days to vacate the premises on Elmwood Lane. You can take your clothes, your tools, and your memories. Everything else stays.”
Kenneth looked at her, his knees suddenly buckling slightly. Tyler reached out, catching his father’s elbow, but Kenneth shook him off violently.
“You’re a monster,” Kenneth whispered, his voice trembling with venomous hatred. “A cold, heartless monster.”
Lucia didn't blink.
“No, Kenneth,” she said softly. “I’m just the girl who learned how to code. Escort them out, Frank.”
Frank and two other guards stepped forward, forming an impenetrable wall of broad shoulders and dark suits.
“Gentlemen,” Frank said, his voice deep and completely devoid of negotiation. “Elevator. Now.”
Tyler, utterly broken, turned toward the elevator bay, his head hanging low. Kenneth lingered for three seconds, his eyes searching Lucia’s face for any flicker of the daughter he used to bully, any trace of the girl who used to seek his approval.
He found nothing. Only the cold, unyielding reflection of his own failure.
Kenneth turned and shuffled into the elevator, his shoulders slumped, looking like a ghost in an ill-fitting suit.
The doors slid shut.
May you like
The elevator descended.
***
