Chapter 17 - The Corporate Battlefield
Dawn broke over Manhattan with grey, ominous skies that matched the mood inside the corporate war room.
Julian stood before the interactive digital displays, his tie undone, sleeves rolled up to his forearms.
A dozen forensic accountants, private investigators, and crisis managers were furiously typing on laptops around the sprawling desk.
On the main monitor, the pre-market trading charts showed Vance Global down four percent—a loss of nearly two hundred million dollars before the opening bell.
"Julian, the judge signed the temporary injunction," Julian’s chief legal counsel, Sarah Bennett, said, rushing into the room.
"How long do we have before the emergency shareholder vote?" Julian asked, not turning away from the financial tickers.
"Three hours," Sarah replied grimly. "Marcus and Victoria have managed to sway the European bloc. They control forty-eight percent of the voting shares right now."
"They only need two more percent to strip me of the CEO position and take control of the family trust," Julian muttered.
"And if they do that, they can enforce the paternity audit and drag Elara through months of public hearings," Sarah warned.
Julian took a slow breath, walking over to the window that looked out toward the mist-covered river.
He pulled a small gold key from his pocket—the key to his late father’s private safety deposit box at Chase Manhattan.
"Sarah," Julian said, his voice dropping into quiet focus. "My father died four years ago, but he knew exactly what Victoria was capable of."
"What are you saying, Julian?"
"My mother wasn't the only one who kept leverage," Julian replied, turning around. "My father spent the last five years of his life tracking Victoria's private financial network."
Julian tossed the key to his lead investigator.
"Box 414. There is a hard drive containing documentation of twenty years of illegal offshore money laundering by the European division—personally authorized by Marcus Vance."
The war room fell silent as the investigators stared at the gold key.
"If we drop that file on the Department of Justice, Marcus goes to federal prison for fifteen years," Sarah whispered, her eyes wide.
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"Then what are you waiting for?" Julian said, his eyes hard as flint. "Send the courier. I’m not playing defense anymore."
***
