Chapter 13 - The Trial of public ruin
By morning, the financial world woke up to a seismic cataclysm.
The headline on every major news network, financial paper, and social media platform blared the exact same monstrous revelation:
VANCE SHIPPING COO ARRESTED IN MULTI-MILLION-DOLLAR SMUGGLING AND ATTEMPTED CHILD MURDER CONSPIRACY.
The stock price of Mark Vance's subsidiary companies plummeted into absolute ruin, shedding ninety percent of its value in less than thirty minutes. Outside the federal courthouse, Mark Vance was paraded before a ravenous horde of reporters, his face battered, his right wrist wrapped in heavy bandages, and his wrists locked in steel handcuffs. Flashbulbs exploded against his bruised face as federal agents shoved him into an armored transport van.
At the same time, footage recovered from the Vance penthouse leaked to every global news outlet. The video of Vanessa Vance openly confessing to neglecting Diego, combined with the sickening documentation of the boy's severe physical abuse, ignited a firestorm of international public fury.
Vanessa was captured by paparazzi hiding in a cheap motel on the outskirts of the city, wearing dirty sweatpants, her designer blonde hair matted, trying to buy bottled water with cards that were completely declined. When the cameras swarmed her, she covered her face with a paper bag, screaming incoherently as angry citizens hurled trash and curses at her.
Inside the private boardroom of Vance Global, Julian sat at the head of the long obsidian table. The board members—men who had secretly conspired with Mark only twenty-four hours earlier—sat in absolute, terrified silence, their heads bowed, terrified to meet the CEO’s gaze.
Julian took a sip of his black coffee, his expression carved from stone.
"Gentlemen," Julian said, his voice quiet yet carrying the weight of an executioner's axe. "Every individual who communicated with Mark Vance over the last six months regarding corporate restructuring will tender their immediate, unconditional resignation by noon today. If you do not, the forensic files detailing your insider trading will be delivered to the Securities and Exchange Commission before the closing bell."
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Without a single word of protest, five senior board members stood up, slid their resignation letters onto the polished table, and fled the room in silence.
Julian stood up, buttoning his jacket. The empire was purged. The vipers were crushed. Now, it was time to go home.
