Chapter 6 - The Boardroom Coup
The boardroom on the sixty-fourth floor of the Moretti Financial Plaza was filled with thirty high-ranking executives and syndicate capos.
Salvatore Moretti stood at the head of the glass conference table, adjusting his gold cufflinks, projecting total, unshakeable confidence.
Beside him sat three corrupt corporate attorneys, holding the emergency resolution to remove Vincent from executive command.
Vincent sat at the far end of the table, looking haggard, his dark eyes shadowed by thirty-six hours without sleep.
His suit was rumpled, his jaw covered in rough dark stubble, his imposing presence hollowed out by the agonizing absence of his wife and child.
"Gentlemen," Salvatore announced, raising his voice to command the room.
"Under Section Fourteen of the corporate bylaws, the Chief Executive must maintain thirty-five percent of the voting shares in continuous escrow."
"Following the sudden departure and divorce filing of Claire Vance-Moretti, those escrow shares are legally frozen."
"Vincent no longer possesses the legal quorum to approve international shipping contracts."
A murmur of agreement rippled through the older board members, who were terrified of losing their revenue streams.
"I am still the CEO of this company, Salvatore," Vincent snarled, his voice hoarse, slamming his hand onto the table.
"You don't have the votes to unseat me."
"Actually, Vincent, I do," Salvatore sneered, sliding a signed petition across the glass surface.
"The board has voted fifteen to four to appoint me as interim managing director. Clean out your office, cousin. You're done."
Before Vincent could lunge across the table, the heavy double doors of the boardroom swung open with an authoritative bang.
Every head in the room snapped toward the entrance.
I stepped into the boardroom wearing a tailored ivory power suit, my dark hair styled in sleek, razor-sharp waves, walking with effortless grace.
Behind me walked Julian Vance and two federal forensic auditors carrying steel lockboxes.
Vincent gasped, his chair screeching against the floor as he stood up, his voice cracking with pure disbelief.
"Claire...?"
I didn't look at him; I kept my gaze fixed entirely on Salvatore Moretti, whose arrogant smirk was rapidly melting into sheer terror.
May you like
"Good morning, gentlemen," I said, my voice echoing across the silent boardroom with absolute command.
"I believe there is a fundamental misunderstanding regarding who controls the escrow shares of this corporation."
