Chapter 29 - The Boardroom at Dawn
Twenty-four hours later. London, England.
The top floor of the Northstar Global Tower in Canary Wharf was silent, save for the rhythmic clicking of wingtip shoes on Italian marble. The emergency global board meeting had been called at 6:00 AM under extreme sovereign protocol.
Julian Sterling sat at the head of the polished obsidian table, impeccably dressed in a Savile Row charcoal three-piece suit. His silver hair was swept back flawlessly, his hands resting gracefully over a gold-tipped walking cane. Surrounding him were twelve terrified board members, along with corrupt regulatory officials who had spent years lining their pockets with alliance kickbacks.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Sterling spoke, his aristocratic voice smooth as aged whiskey. "As you know, our beloved CEO Emily Vance and her stepmother have sadly perished in an unfortunate private aviation incident over the Swiss border early yesterday morning. The wreckage has not been recovered."
Several board members bowed their heads in faux solemnity.
"Under Article 4 of the syndicate covenants," Sterling continued, sliding a thick stack of leather-bound transfer documents across the table, "all voting equity reverts immediately to the Apex Consortium. Sign here, and Northstar’s sovereign fleet becomes the property of my holding firm."
"And if we refuse?" whispered elderly Director Aris Thorne, a loyal friend of my father who looked physically sickened.
"Then you will join Vance at the bottom of an alpine ravine," Sterling replied with a tranquil smile. "Now, sign."
Before Thorne's trembling pen could touch the paper, the heavy double oak doors of the boardroom swung open with an authoritative crash.
Two Scotland Yard tactical officers stepped through, followed by a woman wearing tailored black trousers, a crisp white silk blouse, and high heels that clicked with razor-sharp intent.
Behind me, Marcus pushed a wheelchair into the room. In it sat Victoria, stripped of all makeup, wearing gray prison sweats, her hands securely handcuffed to her lap, shivering with downcast eyes.
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"I believe you're sitting in my father's chair, Mr. Sterling," I said, my voice echoing across the silent boardroom like a gunshot.
***
