Chapter 5 - The Purge of the Board
At 2:00 p.m. on Tuesday, the grand executive boardroom on the third floor of the Green Street headquarters was convened for an emergency shareholders' tribunal.
The twelve senior directors, institutional distributors, and literary estate representatives sat around the thirty-foot walnut conference table in dead, breathless silence.
Seated at the far end of the table were the two board members who had secretly allied with Natalie: Thomas Vance, the Chief Financial Officer, and Eleanor Davies, the head of digital acquisitions. Both sat with their heads lowered, their hands trembling continuously over their legal pads.
I sat at the head of the table—the seat I had designed myself forty years ago.
Arthur Ross stood beside me, unzipping an expandable leather litigation case, dropping two blue-bound portfolios onto the table before Vance and Davies.
"Item one on today's agenda," Arthur began, his voice razor-sharp, "is the formal receipt of the voluntary resignations of Thomas Vance and Eleanor Davies, accompanied by the complete forfeiture of their unvested stock options and executive severance packages."
Thomas Vance scrambled to his feet, his face turning an ugly shade of purple. "On what grounds, Arthur? I have served this board for fifteen years! You cannot dismiss me without a formal vote of the shareholders!"
I leaned forward, resting my hands on the walnut surface, my amber eyes locking onto his with freezing clarity.
"We have the encrypted email correspondence between your private server and Apex Global Media, Thomas," I said, each word dropping like an iron weight. "We have the wire transfer slips showing that Natalie promised you a six-hundred-thousand-dollar retention bonus once the liquidation of our backlist was completed."
Vance’s breath caught in his throat. He looked around the table at the ten other directors, who were staring at him with unmasked disgust.
"You have ten minutes to sign those documents, Thomas," I added softly. "Or the federal prosecutors waiting in my outer office will unseal your grand jury indictments before the stock market closes."
Vance and Davies grabbed their pens with shaking fingers, signed their names across the resignation blocks, collected their portfolios, and fled the boardroom in absolute, humiliated silence.
I turned to the remaining loyal directors.
"Item two," I continued, my voice rich with warmth and resolve. "The one point four million dollars embezzled by Natalie has been fully recovered through the judicial attachment of her private real estate assets. The funds are being transferred directly into the newly established Clara Alden Memorial Author Endowment, providing emergency healthcare and living stipends for emerging writers across this country."
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The room erupted into spontaneous, standing applause.
The editors and distributors rose to their feet, their cheers echoing through the high-vaulted wooden beams, sealing the dawn of an unshakeable, unified future built on honor, loyalty, and truth.
