Chapter 4 - THE BOARDROOM SNARE
At 8:45 AM, the glass-and-steel skyscraper of Vance Cybersecurity in downtown Chicago glittered under the morning sun.
Richard, Eleanor, and Victoria arrived in a sleek chauffeur-driven sedan, dressed in high-end designer attire purchased on credit lines they assumed Marcus would pay off by afternoon. Victoria was livestreaming herself walking through the lobby, holding a iced latte, boasting to her followers about "taking over the family enterprise."
They were ushered into the top-floor executive boardroom. The room boasted panoramic views of Lake Michigan, a sprawling oak table, and six high-ranking board members sitting alongside Jonathan Sterling, the firm’s formidable senior legal advisor.
Marcus was already seated at the head of the table. He looked pristine, wearing a tailored navy suit, though his eyes carried the weight of a storm.
"Ah, Marcus!" Richard boomed, stepping in with fake warm authority. "You look ready. Good, good. We’ve brought the notarized family agreements. Let's get this paperwork cleared quickly so you can focus on your... rest."
Eleanor took a seat, adjusting her pearl necklace. "Yes, darling. We’ve had a word with Clara's family as well. She’s agreed to go back to her hometown for a few months to recover from her... unstable condition."
Marcus tilted his head slightly. "Is that so? She agreed?"
"Completely," Victoria chimed in, applying lip gloss. "She realized she was dragging this family down. Honestly, Marcus, you married way beneath your status. But don't worry, Dad will manage the firm’s shares now."
Jonathan Sterling cleared his throat, placing a thick leather-bound dossier on the table. "Before Mr. Vance signs the transfer of authority, we must legally review Clause 7 of the revised corporate charter. As requested by Mr. Richard Vance, this clause dictates the emergency reallocation of company assets and executive power."
"Yes, yes, we know what it says," Richard said impatiently, pulling out a expensive gold pen. "It transfers fifty-one percent of Marcus's voting shares to the immediate elder patriarch in the event of family restructuring. Let's just sign it."
"Actually, Richard," Marcus spoke up, his voice dangerously soft, "you haven't read the final draft of Clause 7, have you?"
Richard paused, his thumb hovering over the pen's clicker. "What do you mean? We drafted it last week with your paralegal."
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"My former paralegal," Marcus corrected, leaning forward. "The one I fired three days ago for accepting a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bribe from your offshore account."
The air in the room instantly vanished. Victoria froze mid-stroke with her lip gloss. Eleanor’s face drained of color.
