Chapter 4 - The Sixty-Fourth Floor
The helicopter touched down on the private helipad atop the sixty-story Sterling Tower with a heavy thud.
The moment the rotors slowed, four armed security guards formed a tight perimeter around us. Julian stepped out first, extending a hand to help me down, while Arthur lifted Lily carefully onto the concrete landing pad.
"Keep the press downstairs in the atrium," Julian ordered his team as we marched toward the glass sky-lobby doors. "No cameras until I enter the boardroom."
"Understood, Mr. Sterling," Arthur replied, speaking into his wrist comms. "The board meeting is currently underway on the sixty-fourth floor. Richard has gathered the top six institutional investors."
We swept through the double glass doors. The interior of Sterling Tower was staggering—soaring marble pillars, floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the harbor, and personnel bowing their heads respectfully as Julian strode past.
As we rode the private high-speed elevator up to the top floor, I smoothed down Lily’s little denim jacket and straightened my own worn cardigan. I felt completely out of place among the glass and polished chrome, but Julian placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"Do not feel intimidated, Clara," Julian said softly, using my name for the first time. "The men in that room wear thousands of dollars in wool, but most of them have less character than the pavement outside."
DING.
The elevator doors slid open silently onto the executive penthouse floor. Deep carpet muffled our footsteps as we walked down a wide hallway lined with oil paintings of historic sailing vessels.
At the far end of the hall stood two massive, dark mahogany doors guarded by two private security officers.
Through the heavy wood, we could hear Richard Vance’s booming voice speaking through a sound system: "...and so, under Section 4 of the corporate bylaws, in the event of the founder's psychological incapacitation, full voting authority reverts to the executive committee. I ask for a motion to vote..."
Julian didn't knock. He didn't announce himself.
He strode up to the double doors, raised his polished leather shoe, and kicked the heavy mahogany doors wide open with a deafening CRACK!
The doors slammed against the interior walls, echoing like a cannon shot through the cavernous boardroom.
Inside, twenty executives in tailor-made suits froze around an immense glass conference table. Papers fell from hands. Coffee cups were set down with trembling fingers.
Standing at the head of the table, holding an oak gavel, was Richard Vance. His face went instantly pale, his mouth hanging open in complete shock.
"Julian...?" Richard gasped, dropping the gavel onto the leather blotter. "You... you're..."
"I'm late for the vote, Richard," Julian declared, his booming voice commanding every inch of the room as he strode inside.
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Behind him, I walked into the high-tech boardroom, holding Lily’s hand tightly.
The twenty multi-millionaire board members stared in total bewilderment as a CEO they thought was ruined walked into the room flanked by a single mother in a worn cardigan and a seven-year-old girl holding a pink purse.
