Chapter 48 - The Shadow of Arthur Sterling
On the 60th floor of Sterling Tower, the glass-walled boardroom was in an uproar. Thirty institutional investors and legacy board members sat around the sixty-foot oval table, watching Martin Sterling pace the front of the room like a triumphant rooster.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Martin proclaimed, tapping his pen impatiently on the podium, "with Tristan Montgomery-Sterling absent and Claire Sterling disqualified under the emergency probate injunction, I hold the casting proxy vote. Cerberus Holdings has offered fifty-two billion dollars in liquid cash to acquire our global transport division. It is the deal of the century, and it ensures this firm does not drown under government scrutiny."
"This deal smells like a firesale, Martin," spoke up Sarah Vance, a veteran board member who had remained neutral throughout the war. "Cerberus Holdings was incorporated forty-eight hours ago in the Cayman Islands. Who is behind it?"
"Their capital is verified by Zurich," Martin snapped defensively. "We vote now. All in favor—"
The heavy double doors of the boardroom were kicked off their hinges with a tremendous bang that echoed through the entire floor.
Security guards who moved to intervene were immediately disarmed and pinned against the marble pillars by Tristan’s elite private detail.
I walked into the boardroom first, my black overcoat billowed behind me like the wings of a hawk. Behind me walked Ethan, cold and watchful, followed directly by Tristan, holding a black leather briefcase.
The silence that fell over the room was absolute. Martin froze, his pen hovering in mid-air, his face turning an ungodly shade of gray.
"You... you were locked in the vault," Martin stammered, backed up against the projection screen. "Tristan! What are you doing with her? You have the majority claim! Order your men to arrest them!"
"My men take orders from the true heirs of Arthur Sterling," Tristan said, stepping forward, his British accent dripping with lethal contempt. "And you, Martin, take orders from a fugitive traitor named Evelyn."
Tristan slammed the black briefcase down onto the center of the mahogany table and popped the latches. He threw the Kensington homicide dossiers and the Cerberus corporate registry across the table for the board members to see.
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"Cerberus Holdings is funded by Evelyn’s hidden offshore slush funds," I announced, my voice commanding the entire room. "Martin’s vote today is not an acquisition. It is an act of international money laundering, designed to strip the Sterling assets and transfer them to the woman currently wanted by Interpol and the French Navy."
***
