Chapter 13 - The Ten-Minute Bluff
Nathaniel picked up the gold Montblanc pen Victor’s attorney had laid on the polished mahogany table. He weighed it in his hand, unscrewing the cap with agonized, deliberate slowness.
"Page four," Nathaniel said, his voice flat, emotionless. "Section B. This clause indemnifies Richard Sterling against future shareholder litigation regarding the 2004 sub-level contracts. That is legally impossible while a criminal referral is pending."
"Sign it, nephew," Victor barked, his eyes darting to the digital clock mounted on the boardroom wall. *12:52 PM.* "You are surrendering your voting rights. What the board does with future litigation is no longer your concern."
"It is my concern if the federal authorities consider me a co-conspirator for signing a fraudulent indemnification," Nathaniel countered, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. He didn't look like a man whose empire was falling; he looked like a sovereign dictating terms at a peace conference. "If you want my signature to hold up in court, Albright needs to strike subsection three."
Albright glanced nervously at Victor. "Mr. Vance, he is technically correct. If the SEC flags an explicit waiver of criminal liability, the entire document could be impounded as an instrument of obstruction."
"Then strike it!" Victor spat, his face reddening with impatience. "Cross it out and initial the margin! You have six minutes left, Nathaniel!"
Across the room, Leo stood with his back to the panoramic window, his fingers rapidly tapping out coded updates on his encrypted phone beneath the fold of his jacket. Rose watched the reflection in the glass: *Team breached outer security door... entering sub-level grid... two hostiles confirmed.*
Rose stepped forward, reaching for the water carafe on the sideboard. As she poured a glass, she deliberately let the heavy crystal carafe slip from her hand.
The crystal shattered violently against the marble floor, spraying water and sharp shards across the lower half of the boardroom table. Several directors flinched, pulling their leather shoes away from the splash.
"Clumsy fool!" Victor shouted, slamming his cane down. "Get away from the table!"
"My apologies, Uncle Victor," Rose said with exaggerated meekness, immediately kneeling among the broken glass, just as she had done on the terrace days before. But as she knelt, she deliberately used her body to obscure Victor’s line of sight to Leo, giving her brother three precious seconds to confirm Marcus’s tactical breach.
"Rose, stand up," Nathaniel said, his tone carrying a command that made the room freeze. "My wife does not clean up broken glass on your orders, Victor. Ever again."
Victor’s sneer turned into a snarl. "She won't be your wife in five minutes, Nathaniel! Pick up the pen and sign the final page, or I swear to you, I will tap this sensor ring right now and let Eleanor choke on her own breath!"
Nathaniel slowly lowered the pen to the signature line. His hand hovered over the parchment. *12:56 PM.*
"Three minutes," Victor whispered, his eyes wild with the intoxicating scent of absolute victory. "Sign it, Nathaniel. Give me the Vance empire."
"Before I sign," Nathaniel said, looking directly into Victor’s eyes, his face settling into a cold, terrifying mask of absolute calm, "I have one question for you, Victor."
"What?" Victor snapped.
"When Marcus kicks down that steel door behind you," Nathaniel said softly, "where do you plan to run?"
Victor’s brow furrowed in confusion. "What nonsense are you—"
Suddenly, the audio feed on the black tablet crackled with a violent static roar.
May you like
A sharp, deafening explosion echoed through the tablet’s small speaker, followed instantly by the staccato bark of silenced gunfire and the shatter of reinforced glass.
***
