Chapter 6 - The Ghost ReturnsThe entire boardroom turned in shock. Standing in the doorway was not a disgraced criminal, but Michael Hartman—his suit immaculate, his expression cold as granite, flanked by two of the most expensive corporate defense attorneys in the state.
"Meeting adjourned, Victor," Michael’s voice echoed through the room, cutting through the silence like a razor blade.
Victor’s face drained of color. He gripped the edge of the table. "You... how are you out? You were arrested! You were facing felony charges!"
"Charges that were dropped the moment my legal team presented the emergency guardianship paperwork I filed at three a.m. last night, pre-dating your little police stunt," Michael said calmly, walking toward the head of the table. He stopped inches from Victor, staring down the man who had betrayed him. "And as for Section Four? That clause requires a unanimous vote of all active directors, or proof of permanent incapacitation. I am wide awake, Victor. And I see you clearer than ever."
"You’re unfit!" Victor shouted, losing his composure as the board members lowered their hands one by one. "You brought a street rat into your house! You’re losing your mind over a dead wife!"
The moment Victor said those words, the temperature in the room plummeted to absolute zero.
Michael didn't yell. He didn't flinch. He simply reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper—a medical intake report faxed directly from the hospital where Lily had been examined that morning.
"You didn't just call the police, Victor," Michael said softly, his voice trembling with a terrifying, suppressed rage. "You hired the private investigator who tracked me to that park. You leaked the story to the tabloids. But more than that... according to the child welfare intake report, Lily didn't just wander into that park by accident six months ago. She ran away from a illegal trafficking ring operating right out of a warehouse owned by a subsidiary shell company... registered under your private offshore accounts, Victor."
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The room gasped. Color vanished entirely from Victor's face as he stumbled backward. "That’s... that’s a lie! You can't prove—"
"The police are already searching your private estate as we speak," Michael interrupted, slamming his hands onto the glass table. "You wanted my company, Victor? You wanted my throne? You can have the office. Because I’m going to spend every single penny I own to make sure you rot in a federal penitentiary."
