Chapter 6 - Breaking the Boardroom
"Listen to me very carefully, Harrison," Grant barked into his comms, vaulting up the concrete stairs into the freezing night air. "Do not engage with corporate security. Repeat: do not fire. Shield the children with the armored plating of the vehicle."
"Sir, they're breaching the perimeter gates right now! They have a court order signed by Judge Alistair—one of your own board members' pocket judges!" Harrison's voice shouted over the sound of screaming sirens and screeching tires.
Grant burst out of the side exit of St. Jude’s into the blinding snowstorm.
Parked thirty yards away in the alleyway was a blockade of three sleek, black corporate transport SUVs bearing the unmistakable gold logo of Calloway Global. Standing in front of them, flanked by heavily armed private security contractors, was Arthur Sterling—senior executive vice president of Calloway Global and Grant's supposed closest confidant on the board.
Arthur stepped forward, adjusting his expensive cashmere scarf against the wind, a smug, venomous smile plastered across his aging face.
"It's over, Grant," Arthur called out, his voice carrying clearly over the howling gale. "Be reasonable. You can't fight the entire board. Those children are illegitimate liabilities to the corporate charter. If they inherit, the entire restructuring deal with the European consortium collapses. Step aside. We'll ensure they are placed in a... secure, remote facility."
Grant walked slowly out of the shadows of the alley, his hands loose at his sides, his expression an absolute mask of terrifying calm.
"Arthur," Grant said softly, his voice cutting through the wind like a razor. "Do you remember when my father died?"
Arthur frowned, stepping back slightly as Grant approached. "What kind of foolish question is that? Of course I do. We all mourned him."
"No," Grant corrected, stepping closer, his eyes fixed on the older man with chilling intensity. "You didn't mourn him. You calculated his death. Just like you calculated Olivia's silence. Just like you thought you could erase my bloodline to protect your precious profit margins."
"You're out of your mind!" Arthur snapped, his voice rising in panic as he gestured to the guards. "Officers! Arrest him! Under Section 4 of the corporate governance code, he is mentally unfit to hold the CEO title!"
The guards raised their weapons, taking a unified step toward Grant.
Grant didn't flinch. Instead, he slowly raised his wrist, tapping the interface of his secondary tactical tablet.
"Execute Protocol Omega," Grant commanded into the device.
Arthur froze. "What... what did you just do?"
Across the street, every single one of the corporate SUVs suddenly flickered, their headlights dying instantly. The digital encryption locks on the guards' tactical weapons clicked shut, locking the triggers with an automated override tone.
"Protocol Omega," Grant smiled coldly, stepping right up to Arthur’s face. "The fail-safe my father installed the day he founded Calloway Global to protect the direct bloodline from corporate mutiny. Right now, every single asset, bank account, and voting share held by the board of directors has been frozen, transferred, and locked into a single trust."
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Grant paused, leaning in close so only Arthur could hear.
"The triplets aren't just liabilities, Arthur. As of thirty seconds ago, they own fifty-one percent of Calloway Global. And you are officially fired."
