Chapter 6 - THE TOAST OF THE CONDEMNEDThe ballroom seemed to hold its collective breath, the atmosphere compressing until it felt like diving deep into the freezing waters of Boston Harbor without a tank.
Alexander held the crystal flute between his thumb and forefinger, his eyes locked onto Marcus Thorne. The golden champagne caught the amber glow of the chandeliers, glittering with an almost hypnotic allure.
"You always had expensive tastes, Marcus," Alexander remarked, his tone conversational, as if they were discussing stock portfolios over a round of golf at the Country Club. "Zurich accounts, Swiss shell companies, alpine chalets. You thought a merger would cover the deficit in your personal hedge fund. You thought liquidating me would clear the ledger."
Marcus didn't blink. He stood tall, his tuxedo immaculate, his posture rigid. The panic was gone, replaced by the cold, hard arrogance of a predator cornered in its own den.
"The board was stagnant, Alexander," Marcus said, his voice carrying clearly across the silent room. "You’ve held the reins for twenty-five years. You refused to expand into Eurasian markets. You were bleeding capital into philanthropic vanity projects while the rest of us carried the weight of the firm. It wasn't murder, Harrington. It was a hostile corporate restructuring."
Across the floor, Richard Sterling was shaking so violently he had to lean his entire weight against the banquet table to stay upright. His face was pale, slick with sweat that ruined the expensive styling of his hair. "I didn't want this," Richard whimpered, staring at the floor. "Marcus said it was just a buyout. He said you'd step down gracefully with a golden parachute..."
"Shut up, Richard," Julian Vance muttered, his voice cold as ice. Julian hadn't touched his drink, but his hands were buried deep in his trouser pockets, his knuckles white as bone. He looked at Alexander with a gaze calculation-sharp. "You can't prove I was part of the administration, Harrington. I knew nothing about the Zurich vial."
"You knew the combination to the private vault, Julian," Victoria said, stepping forward beside Alexander. Her emerald-green gown swept the marble floor with a soft, whispering sound. Her face was composed, her eyes burning with an intense, steady fury. "Only the four of us had the codes. And I didn't touch the vault tonight."
Julian’s jaw tightened. A muscle jumped in his cheek. "Circumstantial, Victoria. A court of law would laugh this out of Suffolk County in five minutes."
"This isn't a court of law, Julian," Alexander said.
May you like
He raised the crystal flute, tilting it slightly toward the three men.
"This is a Harrington board meeting."
