Chapter 17: The Snake in the Boardroom
Chapter 17: The Snake in the Boardroom
The top floor of the Vance Tower in downtown Chicago smelled of expensive espresso and cold panic.
Eleven members of the executive committee sat around the massive glass conference table, their phones buzzing in a synchronized, chaotic rhythm. The morning headlines were brutal. Eleanor Vance Arrested. Multi-Billion Dollar Empire in Jeopardy. Secret Heir Born in Hiding.
At the head of the table sat Julian Vance.
James’s younger half-brother. A man who wore five-thousand-dollar suits like armor and possessed a smile that never quite reached his eyes. He was calmly sliding a heavy silver ring engraved with the Vance family crest around his finger.
Click... click... click...
The sound of his silver lighter echoed in the tense silence.
"We look like a cartel, not a Fortune 500 company," barked Marcus Vance, a cousin who oversaw the European assets. "The press is outside the gates. The police are sniffing around the foundation’s offshore accounts. Julian, you said Eleanor’s arrest would be a minor speed bump!"
Julian didn't look up from his tablet. "Eleanor was a blunt instrument. She let her pride get the better of her on that staircase. I told her to handle the girl quietly. She chose theater."
"And now the girl has a baby," Marcus pressed, leaning forward. "A baby that, according to James’s secret trust, automatically triggers a total freeze on all corporate assets if Sarah files a claim of executive misconduct. We lose our board seats. We lose everything."
Julian finally raised his eyes. They were as cold and empty as a winter sky.
"Only if the baby leaves that hospital alive," Julian said softly.
The room went dead silent. Several board members looked away, suddenly very interested in their paperwork. They were corrupt, yes. They liked bribes and offshore accounts. But this... this was a different ocean entirely.
"Julian," Marcus whispered, his voice shaking slightly. "We are talked about as a family, not... we aren't murderers."
"James was a murderer," Julian shot back, his voice suddenly dropping into a venomous hiss. "He murdered our father’s legacy by handing this entire empire to a middle-class waitress who happened to marry his son. He cut us out. Me. The rightful heir."
Julian stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. "The hospital is crawling with Reyes’s cops, but they are playing checkers. We are playing chess. Daniel Mercer failed because he cared about his kidnapped daughter. I don't make the mistake of using desperate men anymore."
He looked at the board members, his gaze a silent, binding threat. "You all signed the transfer papers for the offshore funds. If I fall, you all go to a federal penitentiary for the rest of your miserable lives. Remember that before you find a conscience."
Julian walked out of the boardroom, leaving a suffocating silence behind him.
He pulled out his phone as he entered the private elevator.
"Is the package ready?" Julian asked.
A voice from the hospital’s internal line answered. "Yes, Mr. Vance. The target is in Room 402. The police guard changes shifts in exactly twenty minutes."
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"Do it," Julian said. "And make sure Arthur Hale watches it happen."
To be continued...
