Chapter 4: The Boardroom Reckoning
The following Monday morning, the boardroom of Vance Industries was silent. The directors, most of whom had been complicit in Serena’s plan, sat in their high-backed leather chairs, sweating. They looked toward the heavy oak doors, expecting the worst.
Clara entered, not in the gown she had worn at the penthouse, but in a razor-sharp charcoal suit. She carried no briefcase, only a tablet. She stood at the head of the table, looking at the men who had plotted to sell the company piece by piece.
"I have the audio logs," she said, projecting them onto the wall. "I have the wire transfers to the offshore accounts in the Caymans. I have the emails where you discussed liquidating the company’s pension funds to cover your personal debts."
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She didn't shout. She didn't need to. "You have two choices. You can resign immediately, forfeiting all severance and stock options, and I won't turn this evidence over to the federal prosecutors. Or, you can try to fight me, and I will dismantle your lives, brick by brick, until you have nothing left but the clothes on your backs."
There was no debate. Within the hour, the resignations were signed. The rot had been excised.
