“My father died four months ago,” Victor said, sitting across from Taylor in his sunlit corner office. “I’m sorry,” Taylor replied softly.

At eight o'clock sharp on Thursday morning, the grand executive boardroom on the top floor of the Anderson Harvest Group headquarters was packed to capacity.

Twelve senior board members, dressed in dark tailored suits, sat around the enormous mahogany conference table.

At the head of the table sat Richard Sterling, looking smug and composed, surrounded by three high-priced corporate defense lawyers. Beside him sat Melissa Crane and Brooke Keller, both wearing expensive designer dresses, sipping sparkling water as if they owned the building.

The heavy double doors swept open.

Victor Anderson stepped into the room. He wore a sharp black suit, his expression cold, powerful, and unyielding.

And walking right beside him, holding a sleek leather briefcase, was Taylor Nelson.

She wore a simple, elegant navy blue dress—bought that morning from a local department store using her first legal advance—her hair pulled back into a sophisticated style. She held her head high, her eyes calm and utterly fearless.

Melissa Crane sneered, setting her water glass down loudly. “Victor, what is the meaning of this? Why is a basement temp carrying your briefcase into a closed board emergency meeting?”

“Sit down, Melissa,” Victor said, his voice quiet, calm, and terrifyingly authoritative.

Richard Sterling cleared his throat, adjusting his gold cufflinks. “Victor, as acting chairman of the board following your father’s passing, I have called this emergency vote to discuss your recent mental instability and gross mismanagement of company assets—including the catastrophic fire at the Selma facility last night.”

Several board members nodded in agreement, murmuring quietly among themselves.

“I move for an immediate vote of no confidence to remove Victor Anderson as CEO,” Richard announced coldly, smiling with triumphant malice.

“Motion denied,” Victor said simply, taking his seat at the head of the table.

“You don't have the authority to deny a board motion, boy!” Richard snapped, his composure slipping.

“I do when the person making the motion is about to be carried out of this building in handcuffs,” Victor replied smoothly.

Victor turned to Taylor. “Miss Nelson, present the audit.”

Taylor stepped forward to the head of the table. She opened her briefcase, pulling out twelve neat leather folders and placing them in front of every board member.

“Gentlemen,” Taylor began, her voice ringing clearly through the silent room with absolute professional authority. “Over the past seventy-two hours, I have conducted a forensic audit of Anderson Harvest Group’s distribution ledgers spanning the last thirty-six months.”

Brooke Keller laughed nervously. “This girl is a low-level clerk! She doesn't even have a degree from a top university!”

“No,” Taylor replied, looking directly at Brooke with a piercing stare. “I don't have a degree from an Ivy League school, Miss Keller. But I do have the complete digital wire transfers showing that you deposited four hundred and twenty thousand dollars of stolen company funds into your personal account at Bank of America last Tuesday.”

Brooke’s laughter died instantly. Her face turned ghost white.

Taylor tapped a remote control, flashing a high-resolution projection onto the wall behind her.

“Over three years, Richard Sterling, Melissa Crane, and Brooke Keller executed a systematic embezzlement scheme totaling fourteen point six million dollars,” Taylor explained, stepping through line-by-line bank records, altered invoices, and digital signatures with breathtaking precision. “They used fake vendor accounts, manipulated tax carries, and intentionally drove away qualified internal auditors during employment interviews.”

The board members gasped, eagerly flipping through the evidence folders in front of them. The math was airtight, undeniable, and utterly devastating.

“This is a lie! It’s fabricated!” Richard screamed, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. “She’s a fraud! She’s trying to ruin us!”

The heavy double doors of the boardroom swung open once more.

Four federal agents from the FBI, accompanied by two armed local police officers, marched into the room.

The lead agent stepped up to Richard Sterling. “Richard Sterling, Melissa Crane, and Brooke Keller? You are under arrest for federal wire fraud, grand larceny, corporate embezzlement, and arson.”

Melissa Crane burst into frantic tears as an officer grabbed her arms, clicking iron handcuffs around her wrists. Brooke Keller slumped into her chair, sobbing hysterically.

As Richard Sterling was forced down onto his knees to be hand-cuffed, he looked up at Taylor—the girl whose mother’s hand-sewn sleeve he had dismissed—with pure, helpless defeat.

“Who... who are you?” Richard choked out.