Chapter 12 - The Phoenix Protocol
Three weeks later, the glass-and-steel monolith in downtown Manhattan—formerly Holloway Enterprises, now triumphantly rebranded as Vance-Holloway Global—buzzed with high-stakes energy.
Inside the executive boardroom on the 48th floor, Elena sat at the head of the massive mahogany table. Gone was the exhausted, near-fatally poisoned wife of the ICU. In her place sat a corporate titan wearing a razor-sharp, midnight-blue tailored suit, her long blonde hair cascading in smooth, perfect waves over her shoulders.
Seated across from her were the remaining senior directors—men who had once bowed exclusively to Grant’s tyrannical rule. Now, they wouldn't even meet her eyes.
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"The Asian market acquisitions are projected to yield a three-hundred-percent return by Q4, Mrs. Holloway-Vance," the chief financial officer stammered, sliding a thick leather portfolio across the desk. "However... there is an unexpected complication regarding the European holdings."
Elena didn't blink. She opened the portfolio with agonizing slowness, her fingers tracing the embossed gold seal. "Nothing is complicated, David. It is merely expensive. And I have more than enough capital to afford the truth."
