Chapter 14 - The Final Boardroom
Damian stepped out into the private lounge and looked up at the wall-mounted television screen.
Breaking news banners in bold red flashed across the bottom: BREAKING: ELEANOR VANCE DETAINED AT METROPOLITAN AIRPORT ON CHARGES OF WIRE FRAUD AND ATTEMPTED CONSPIRACY TO MURDER.
The screen showed Eleanor Vance in handcuffs, her face pale, shielding her eyes from the flashing cameras as federal agents led her toward an unmarked black van. Behind her, boxes of documents were being carried out of the Vance Enterprises corporate headquarters.
""The federal prosecutor moved faster than expected,"" Alan murmured, standing beside his cousin. ""Julian sang like a canary the moment they booked him. He handed over every offshore account, every forged signature, and the surveillance footage from the manor.""
Damian didn't look victorious. His face was set in grim determination. ""Eleanor was only half the rot. The executive board approved the liquidation of Clara’s trust fund back then. They knew Daisy existed, Alan. They chose to let a child die to keep the stock price stable.""
""What are you going to do?"" Alan asked.
""Call an emergency general meeting at ten o'clock,"" Damian replied, checking his platinum wristwatch. ""I want every board member in the main conference room. If they aren't in their seats, their shares will be seized under the corporate fraud forfeiture clause.""
Two hours later, Damian walked into the top-floor boardroom of the Vance Tower. He had showered, shaved, and put on a pristine midnight-blue suit, but the dangerous, predatory glint in his dark eyes had only sharpened.
The twelve members of the board sat in absolute, terrified silence. Papers were scattered across the mahogany table.
Damian didn't sit at the head of the table. He stood, leaning his knuckles onto the polished wood, casting a long shadow across the assembled executives.
""Gentlemen,"" Damian began, his voice dangerously low. ""Five years ago, you signed off on a resolution declaring Clara Winters a security threat to this company. You buried the existence of an heir to protect your quarterly bonuses.""
A senior director swallowed hard, sweating profusely. ""Damian, we were misled by Eleanor! Julian presented forged legal documents showing—""
""I don't care about your excuses, Arthur,"" Damian cut him off coldly. He slid a single document across the table. ""You will all sign your unconditional resignations and transfer forty percent of your preferred shares into a blind irrevocable trust.""
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""Whose trust?"" Arthur stammered.
""Daisy Vance,"" Damian said, each syllable ringing like an iron bell. ""My daughter. The sole legitimate heir to Vance Enterprises.""
