Chapter 6 - Panic in the Corner Office
By ten-thirty that morning, Grant was pounding violently on the frosted glass doors of Apex Logistics’ headquarters. The building was a sleek, three-story glass structure located in the Daniel Island business district. Normally, the security guards would jump out of their chairs to hold the door open for Mr. Miller. Today, two armed private security contractors in tactical gear stood behind the locked tempered glass, watching him with deadpan expressions.
"Open this damn door!" Grant screamed, his face contorted in manic rage as a crowd of office workers began peeking through the lobby windows. "I am the CEO! I founded this company! Call the police! I will have you fired by lunchtime!"
The glass door opened three inches. Marcus Vance stepped into the vestibule, looking pale and thoroughly exhausted. He held a cardboard storage box containing Grant’s desk toys, framed family photographs, and a gold-plated golf trophy.
"Don't do this to yourself, Grant," Marcus said quietly, sliding the box through the gap. "There are four corporate litigators upstairs. They have every bank statement from the past five years. They know about the yacht. They know about the wire transfers to your brother’s offshore shell company. They know about Judith’s villa."
Grant grabbed Marcus by the lapels of his jacket, shaking him violently. "I made you, Marcus! I took you out of middle management and gave you twenty percent of the operations! Tell those trust lawyers to get out of my office!"
"You didn't give me anything, Grant!" Marcus snapped, slapping Grant’s hands away with sudden ferocity. "Your wife’s trust signed my employment contract! When the lawyers showed me the original incorporation filings this morning, I found out you don't even own ten percent of the equity! You lied to all of us for nine years! You told us you were the majority owner, but you were nothing more than an overpaid manager on a leash!"
Grant stumbled back against the exterior brick wall, clutching his chest. "That's not true... the name on the door says Miller!"
"Because your wife let you use your name to save your fragile male ego!" Marcus yelled back, his voice echoing across the courtyard for every employee to hear. "And while you were strutting around playing the great southern patriarch, you were bleeding the company’s retained earnings dry to fund your deadbeat nephew's lifestyle! You’re finished here, Grant. If you step onto this property again, the security team has orders to arrest you for criminal trespass."
The heavy glass door clicked shut, the magnetic locks engaging with a heavy, final thud.
Grant fell to his knees on the concrete, staring at the cardboard box sitting beside him. Inside the box, a framed photograph of Lily at age three smiled innocently back at him. She was holding a dandelion, her tiny hand undamaged, her eyes full of the pure, unconditional love she used to have for her father before he decided that her value was determined by her gender.
His phone rang again. It was the general manager of the Harborview Hotel.
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"Mr. Miller, this is hotel security. We have checked your party out of the presidential suite following the non-payment of your breakfast bill. Your luggage has been moved to the valet desk. If the outstanding balance of four thousand two hundred dollars is not settled by noon, we will be forced to file a report with the police department for defrauding an innkeeper."
Grant let out a strangled, broken sob, burying his face in his hands as the humid southern breeze rustled the empty corporate documents at his feet.
