Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Trap
Thursday afternoon arrived with a heavy downpour, the rain lashing against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the executive boardroom at Sterling Logistics.
I sat at the head of the massive mahogany table. To my right sat Margaret, looking elegant and composed, though she gripped my hand tightly beneath the table.
At exactly 1:00 PM, the double glass doors swung open. Marcus and Chloe strode in. Chloe was wearing a tailored Chanel suit, carrying a thick binder. She looked incredibly smug. Marcus was practically glowing with anticipation.
“Dad! Mom!” Marcus smiled broadly, taking a seat to my left. He didn't even look at Margaret’s shoulder.
Chloe slid the binder across the table. “Here are the Q3 ledgers, Arthur. Everything is perfectly balanced. All that’s left is your signature on the equity transfer.”
I didn't touch the binder. Instead, I pressed a button on the intercom.
“You can come in now, Thomas.”
The side door of the boardroom opened. Thomas Vance walked in, carrying a black briefcase, followed by two stern-looking men in cheap suits—private financial investigators.
Marcus frowned. “Dad, what is this? I thought this was just family today.”
“It was,” I said, my voice devoid of any warmth. “Until I reviewed the books. Tell me, Chloe, how is the weather in the Cayman Islands this time of year?”
Chloe froze. The color instantly drained from her perfectly bronzed face.
“I… I don't know what you mean,” she stammered.
I opened a file folder in front of me and slid a stack of papers down the polished table. They stopped right in front of Marcus.
“Over the last three years,” I began, projecting my voice so it echoed in the large room, “you two have authorized over two million dollars in payments to three separate vendor companies. The only problem is, those logistics vendors don't exist. They are shell companies registered to an offshore account under Chloe’s maiden name.”
“That’s a lie!” Chloe shrieked, standing up. “Arthur, someone is framing us! It was probably your old partner before he died!”
“My old partner is the one who gave me the USB drive containing all of your deleted emails, Chloe,” I replied coldly.
Marcus looked frantically at the documents. The arrogance melted off his face, replaced by pure, unadulterated terror. “Dad, wait, I can explain—”
“There is no explanation needed,” I said. Then, I pulled out a small remote and clicked it.
May you like
The audio file from the USB drive began to play through the boardroom’s state-of-the-art sound system.
“As soon as the old man signs the equity transfer, Mom won't have a leg to stand on… We’ll stick her in a facility in upstate New York.”
