Chapter 4 - Boone Quietly Positions Himself Near the Workshop Tools
Arthur Vance tried to recover his footing, straightening his silk tie with a sharp, aggressive jerk.
“Ms. Larkin, I must insist that you allow me to take immediate custody of the exoskeleton unit,” Arthur demanded.
“We need to ship it back to our New Jersey lab for comprehensive metallurgical testing.”
“You aren't taking anything out of this penthouse,” Celeste said, her tone absolute and unyielding.
“If you attempt to remove that machine, my legal team will have a federal injunction slapped on Veyron within the hour.”
Arthur’s face flushed a deep, mottled red as he realized billionaire wealth was boxing him into a corner.
“You don't understand the liability exposure here, Ms. Larkin! Veyron is a publicly traded corporation!”
“Precisely why you’re standing in my living room sweating through an expensive suit,” Celeste retorted coldly.
Piper watched the exchange from her wheelchair, feeling a strange mixture of vindication and profound exhaustion.
For months, she had blamed her own failing body for every stumble, every fall, and every burning tear.
Now she watched a high-ranking corporate executive sweat bullets over a cracked bearing and a scratched housing.
Boone casually picked up his heavy canvas tool bag, slinging the leather strap over his broad right shoulder.
He didn't walk toward the elevator; instead, he stepped back toward the service alcove near the kitchen entrance.
Arthur noticed the movement and tracked Boone with sharp, paranoid eyes.
“Where do you think you're going?” Arthur snapped defensively.
“Nowhere,” Boone replied without breaking his stride.
“Just staying out of the blast radius when the real lawyers show up.”
Dr. Mara Voss looked like she was about to experience a full medical panic attack right there on the rug.
“Ms. Larkin, if Veyron’s hardware caused physical trauma during therapy sessions, my medical license could be—”
“Your medical license is the least of your concerns, Mara, if you certified those fraudulent logs,” Celeste interrupted.
Dr. Voss turned pale, her tablet slipping from her fingers and bouncing harmlessly against the thick Persian wool.
Arthur realized he was losing control of the narrative, the room, and the entire corporate coverup strategy.
“This conversation is over,” Arthur declared, turning sharply toward the open elevator doors.
“I am leaving, and if you tamper with company property, Veyron will sue for corporate espionage.”
He stepped inside the elevator cab, reaching out a manicured hand to press the lobby button on the panel.
Before his finger could touch the stainless-steel pad, Boone’s heavy wrench landed squarely across the electronic door sensor.
The elevator doors bounced open instantly with an automated chime.
Boone didn't look back at Arthur as he stood by the threshold with his tool bag.
“Not yet, suit,” Boone said quietly.
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“The lady hasn't finished asking her questions.”
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