Chapter 6 - The Ghost in the Boardroom
"Gentlemen. Have a seat," Thomas commanded.
Marcus sat in the lead chair, opening his binder. He launched into his pitch, his voice smooth, charismatic, and heavily practiced. He talked about Vanguard’s aggressive litigation strategies, their perfect track record, and how he, Marcus Vance, would personally oversee Sterling Global’s assets as if they were his own.
Thomas Sterling listened in absolute silence for ten minutes. He didn't look at the slideshow. He just stared at Marcus like a scientist observing a particularly disgusting insect.
Marcus finished with a dazzling smile. "Mr. Sterling, with Vanguard at your side, your legacy is untouchable."
Thomas closed the folder in front of him. "A compelling presentation, Mr. Vance. You speak highly of integrity, aggressive defense, and loyalty."
"They are my core values, sir," Marcus lied smoothly.
"I am glad to hear that," Thomas said. "Because before I sign a multi-million dollar retainer, I always require my executive vice president to vet the lead attorney. She is very particular about character."
Marcus frowned slightly. "Of course. I'd be happy to answer any of her questions."
Thomas pressed a button on his desk phone. "Send her in."
The heavy oak doors at the back of the boardroom clicked open.
The click of expensive heels echoed against the marble floor. I walked into the room.
I was not wearing baggy sweatpants or blood-stained bandages. I wore a tailored, slate-gray Dior power suit. My hair was blown out perfectly, falling in dark waves over my shoulders. My makeup was flawless, hiding the pale exhaustion of my recovery. I looked exactly like what I was: the billionaire heiress to the Sterling empire.
Marcus turned around to greet the vice president.
His face froze.
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The blood drained from his cheeks so fast he looked like a corpse. His jaw went slack, his eyes bugging out of his head as if he were staring at a ghost. He tried to speak, but only a choked, wheezing sound escaped his throat.
"Hello, Marcus," I said, my voice cold, steady, and echoing in the silent room. I took the empty seat directly to my father's right, folding my hands on the marble table. "It's been a while since we spoke. Mile marker 45, wasn't it?"
