Chapter 6 - THE BOARDROOM AMBUSHThe mahogany boardroom on the top floor of Concincaid Tower overlooked the stormy gray waters of the bay.
At precisely nine o'clock on Monday morning, the heavy oak doors swung open. Conrad Vance strode in, impeccably dressed in a custom charcoal suit, his silver hair combed to perfection. He took his seat at the head of the long glass table, flanked by two corporate attorneys and three senior board members who looked distinctly nervous.
"Good morning, gentlemen," Conrad said, lacing his fingers together with supreme confidence. "As you know, we are here to ratify the emergency succession transfer in light of the tragic deaths of Harrison and Garrett Concincaid, and to stabilize our shipping operations."
One of the board members cleared his throat nervously. "And Jasper Concincaid? Shouldn't he be present to contest—"
"Jasper is a transient," Conrad dismissed with a smooth wave of his hand. "He has no head for business. He has already signed away his preliminary shares in exchange for a cash settlement to leave the estate. All that remains is your signature here, gentlemen."
Conrad slid a thick stack of legal documents across the table.
The board member reached for a pen, his hand trembling slightly as he hovered over the dotted line.
"I wouldn't sign that if I were you," a voice echoed from the doorway.
Conrad froze. The pen dropped from the board member's fingers, clattering sharply against the glass table.
The heavy boardroom doors pushed wide open.
Jasper Concincaid walked in. He wasn't wearing his wet suit from the night of his arrival; he wore a tailored, midnight-black Italian suit, his posture rigid, his face carved from cold, unyielding granite.
And walking right beside him—tall, gaunt, bruised, but standing upright with an undeniable authority—was Garrett Concincaid.
Conrad's face drained of all color. The polite, synthetic mask shattered instantly, revealing the twitching, panicked panic of a rat trapped in a corner. His mouth opened, but no words came out.
"G-Garrett...?" stammered one of the attorneys, half-rising from his chair in sheer terror. "That's impossible... we saw the coroner's report..."
"The coroner works for Conrad," Garrett said, his voice deep and resonant as he walked to the head of the table. He stopped right beside Conrad's chair, towering over the older man. "And Conrad is about to retire."
Conrad swallowed hard, desperately trying to regain his composure. He forced a sickly, trembling smile. "This... this is a misunderstanding. Identity fraud! Security! Get these impostors out of—"
"Quiet, Conrad," Jasper said softly, pulling out the chair directly opposite him and sitting down with deliberate slowness.
He reached into his briefcase and slammed a thick manila folder onto the glass table. The documents spilled out—bank statements from Cayman shell companies, forged signatures, audio transcripts of Conrad plotting the brake failure with local mercenaries, and signed confessions from the very guards who locked Garrett in the sub-basement.
"You didn't just steal the company, Conrad," Jasper said, his eyes locking onto Conrad's with the weight of a firing squad. "You murdered my father. You locked my brother in a tomb. And you thought you could inherit the earth."
Conrad’s hands began to shake uncontrollably. He looked around the boardroom for allies, but every board member was staring at the documents in horror, sliding their chairs away from him as if he carried the plague.
"You can't prove any of this," Conrad hissed, his voice dropping its polite veneer, turning venomous. "The police are in my pocket. The state attorney—"
"Is currently being arrested by federal marshals as we speak," a deep, gravelly voice announced from the doorway.
Two men in federal tactical gear stepped into the room, their badges gleaming on their tactical vests. They walked straight to Conrad's chair, grabbed him by the shoulders, and yanked him violently to his feet.
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Conrad thrashed, his face contorting into a mask of pure rage. "You think you've won?! The Concincaid empire is rotten to its core! You can't save it! YOU CAN'T SAVE ANY OF IT!"
As they dragged Conrad screaming out of the boardroom, the heavy doors slammed shut behind them, sealing his fate.
