Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Coup
At 10:00 AM, the Sterling Tower boardroom was vibrating with quiet paranoia. Twelve executive board members sat around the mahogany conference table, murmuring over leaked financial sheets. At the head of the table sat Arthur Vance, a silver-haired titan who had fought Julian’s late father for control of the firm three decades earlier.
Beside Arthur sat Mateo, wearing a freshly pressed navy suit, his face smug despite a dark bruise forming on his cheek where Julian’s security had escorted him out the night before.
"Julian has abandoned his duties," Arthur announced, striking the table with a heavy palm. "He spent the last twenty-four hours in hysterics over domestic squabbles, while Sterling stock plunged four points due to delayed semiconductor contracts. Furthermore, we have received medical documentation questioning his wife's mental stability. Under Article 14 of the board bylaws, Mateo is prepared to assume interim executive control."
Mateo leaned back, flashing a venomous grin. "My brother is compromised. For the safety of the company, we must act before—"
The heavy double doors of the boardroom exploded inward with a deafening bang.
Two armed security guards stumbled aside as Julian strode through the opening. His black suit was pristine, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his eyes dark and merciless. Marcus followed directly behind him, carrying a silver briefcase.
The murmuring stopped instantly. Mateo shrank back into his leather chair, the smugness evaporating from his features.
"Continue, brother," Julian said smoothly, stepping to the head of the table. He rested both hands on the back of Arthur Vance’s chair, leaning down until his lips were inches from the older man’s ear. "Tell them how you plan to manage my grandfather’s empire from a federal penitentiary."
Arthur cleared his throat, attempting to maintain composure. "Julian, you cannot intimidate the board. We are acting under lawful governance—"
Julian snapped his fingers. Marcus placed the briefcase on the mahogany table, popping the locks open. Instead of financial reports, dozens of glossy photographs and bank transcripts spilled across the polished wood.
"Six months of encrypted messages between Arthur Vance and a rogue chemist in Munich," Julian said loudly, his eyes sweeping across the terrified board members. "Every wire transfer traced back to accounts registered in the Cayman Islands under Mateo’s mother’s maiden name."
Mateo scrambled out of his seat. "Those are fabricated! You're trying to frame us!"
Julian looked at Mateo with cold disgust. "I didn't call the police, Mateo. I called the Federal Trade Commission, Interpol, and the anti-racketeering task force. They are currently sealing every exit on this floor."
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As sirens began echoing up from the avenues below, Julian’s phone buzzed violently in his pocket. He answered, holding the device to his ear.
The frantic voice of Mrs. Torres cut through the static: "Mr. Sterling! Three armed men just breached the penthouse service elevator! They took Mrs. Elena!"
