Chapter 4 - The Boardroom Ambush
The headquarters of Thorne & Mercer Tech was a towering glass monolith in the center of the financial district.
At 10:00 AM, the emergency board of directors meeting commenced. I wasn't in the room. I was sitting in a black SUV in the underground parking garage, watching the live feed through a hidden camera Arthur had planted in the boardroom’s centerpiece the night before.
On the screen, Marcus stood at the head of the long mahogany table, looking appropriately solemn in a black suit.
“Gentlemen,” Marcus began, his voice dripping with faux sorrow. “As you know, my brother-in-arms, Julian, passed away last week. It has been a devastating blow to all of us. But worse still is the state of his poor wife.”
He paused for dramatic effect. The board members leaned in.
“The grief has shattered her mind. She had a severe psychotic break in the maternity ward, imagining her own family was trying to kidnap her children. It was horrific. Because she is medically unfit to manage Julian’s 51% stake in this company, I am enacting Clause 4A of our founding charter—transferring executive control to myself, effective immediately.”
I clicked my radio. “Now, Arthur.”
The boardroom doors swung open. Marcus froze as Arthur strode into the room, flanked by two armed federal marshals.
And then, I walked in behind them.
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I wore a sharp, tailored black suit. My hair was pulled back perfectly. I didn't look like a shattered widow; I looked like an executioner.
“I appreciate your concern for my mental health, Marcus,” I said, my voice echoing off the glass walls. “But I assure you, my mind has never been clearer.”
