Chapter 3: Corporate Warfare
Forty-eight hours later, I checked myself out of the hospital against medical advice. My throat was wrapped in a soft silk scarf to hide the ugly purple handprints, and my left eye was covered by dark, oversized sunglasses. I wasn't going home to rest. I was going to the high-rise headquarters of Vance-Vanguard Tech.
Ethan’s bail had been set at half a million dollars, paid instantly by Victoria’s private trust. I knew exactly where they would be: the emergency board meeting Victoria had called to execute the mental incompetency clause in my father's bylaws.
When my attorney, Marcus Vance (no relation to Ethan, a brilliant legacy lawyer my father had kept on retainer for decades), opened the double glass doors to the boardroom, the room fell dead silent.
Victoria sat at the head of the mahogany table, flanked by Ethan and three of the company’s oldest investors. Ethan had a small bandage on his arm, looking like a man who had survived a war.
"Audrey," Victoria said, standing up, her voice dripping with artificial pity. "You shouldn't be here. The hospital explicitly said you were unstable. We are currently voting to place Ethan as interim CEO for your own protection."
"The vote is out of order, Victoria," Marcus stated, throwing a heavy stack of legal folders onto the center of the table.
"On what grounds?" Ethan snapped, leaning forward. "I am her husband. I have her psychiatric history right here!"
"You have a poorly photoshopped PDF you stole from a clinic in Indiana," I said, stepping up to the table. I took off my sunglasses, letting the entire board see the severe, dark bruising around my eye and the swelling on my jaw. "And you have a criminal charge for attempted murder."
The board members gasped. One of them, an old friend of my father, stood up. "Audrey, what happened to you?"
"My husband happened," I said smoothly. I nodded to Marcus, who plugged a encrypted flash drive into the room’s main projector.
The audio from the micro-recorder filled the room. The quality was crystal clear.
“Just sign the transfer papers, Audrey,” Ethan’s recorded voice sneered through the speakers. “Nobody is going to believe a word you say. My mom already bought the doctor.” Then, the sound of a struggle. A gasp. My own suffocating voice crying out. Then, Victoria’s chilly, calm voice: “Not the face this time, Ethan. The police need to think she threw herself around.”
The audio stopped. The boardroom was so quiet you could hear the hum of the air conditioning. Ethan was shaking, staring at the projector screen as the digital forensic report mapped the exact timeline of the recording matching my admission to the ER.
"This is a fabrication!" Victoria yelled, her aristocratic voice cracking into a screech. "This is an invasion of privacy!"
"It’s state's evidence, Victoria," Marcus corrected her. "And as of ten minutes ago, the Securities and Exchange Commission has opened a full investigation into you and your son for corporate fraud, insider trading, and attempted asset theft."
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I looked at the three investors Victoria had tried to buy off. "If any of you vote with them today, you will be named as co-conspirators in a federal indictment. Choose wisely."
The investors didn't hesitate. They stood up, grabbed their briefcases, and walked out of the room without looking at Ethan or Victoria once.
