Chapter 11 - The Inheritance of Curses
The transition of power at Vance Global was not accompanied by celebratory champagne or flashing camera bulbs. It happened in the cold, windowless boardroom on the forty-fifth floor, where the mahogany table—once a symbol of ruthless corporate conquest—now felt less like a seat of triumph and more like a mausoleum.
Alexander Reed sat at the head of the table, his fingers steepled beneath his chin. Opposite him sat three remaining senior board directors, men who had spent decades serving under Richard Vance, surviving by virtue of tactical survivalism and absolute moral flexibility.
"The federal asset unfreezing has cleared, Mr. Reed," Thomas Sterling, the longest-serving board member, said carefully. He didn't look Alexander in the eye; instead, his gaze was fixed on the thick legal dossier resting on the table. "As of this morning, Reed Enterprises holds ninety-four percent of the voting shares. Vance Global is legally, structurally, and financially yours."
"It was always mine," Alexander said, his voice flat, devoid of arrogance or celebration. "Julian just spent thirty years trying to bury the deed."
"What are your instructions for the logistics division?" Thomas asked, clearing his throat. "The Pacific shipping lanes are congested. Without Julian’s oversight, several key international contracts are pending renegotiation. If we don't move quickly, competitors in Europe will swoop in."
Alexander stood up, sliding his suit jacket button closed. He looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the gray fog roll in over the harbor where massive container ships sat motionless like iron monuments to an exhausted era.
"Liquidate the non-essential subsidiaries," Alexander commanded without turning around. "Reallocate thirty percent of the logistics capital into renewable supply chain tech. And terminate every executive who signed off on Julian’s slush funds."
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Thomas blinked, stunned. "Mr. Reed, that will trigger massive structural layoffs. The board will—"
"The board doesn't exist anymore," Alexander interrupted, turning around with a look so cold it froze the older man's protests in his throat. "You work for me now. Do as you're told, or join Julian in federal custody."
