Chapter 3 - The Morning After
The financial world woke up to a bloodbath.
I sat in the sunroom of the estate, a cup of decaf tea warming my hands, as I watched the morning news networks scramble to keep up. The ticker at the bottom of the screen was a blur of red text.
VANCE INNOVATIONS STOCK PLUMMETS 60% IN PRE-MARKET TRADING. JULIAN VANCE UNDER FEDERAL INVESTIGATION FOR FRAUD. STERLING GLOBAL CALLS IN ALL DEBTS ON VANCE HOLDINGS.
It was a perfectly executed demolition.
At 8:00 AM, my father entered the sunroom, looking immaculately pressed in a gray three-piece suit. He handed me a secure tablet.
“Julian was released on a ten-million-dollar bond at 4:00 AM,” my father reported briskly. “His assets are entirely frozen. He had to use a bail bondsman and leverage the remaining equity in Beatrice’s name just to walk out of lockup.”
I looked at the tablet. It was a live feed from the lobby of Vance Innovations headquarters. Julian was pushing through a sea of aggressive reporters, his hair disheveled, his bespoke suit wrinkled. He looked frantic. He looked like prey.
“He’s going to the office to try and stop the bleeding,” I noted, watching him shove a microphone away from his face.
“He can try,” my father said, checking his platinum Patek Philippe watch. “But an emergency shareholder meeting was called for 9:30 AM. Sterling Global triggered the default clauses in his mezzanine loans. We effectively own seventy percent of his voting shares as of midnight.”
“He thinks he can talk his way out of it,” I murmured. “He thinks he can charm the board. He always has.”
“He has never faced you on an even playing field,” my father corrected. He reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a heavy, cream-colored envelope, handing it to me.
I opened it. It was a legal proxy form.
“I am the Chairman of Sterling Global, but I am transferring the proxy voting rights for this specific acquisition to you,” my father explained. “You are the one who bled inside that penthouse, Clara. You are the one who gets to hold the knife today.”
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I stared at the document. For two years, I had shrunk myself to fit into Julian’s twisted mold. I had silenced my opinions, hidden my brilliance, and let him believe he was the smartest person in every room.
I set my tea down. “Have the pilot prep the helicopter. I need to borrow a power suit.”
