Chapter 6 - The Boardroom ExecutionThe boardroom at Sterling Enterprises had never looked so somber.
It was 10:00 a.m. the next day. The long mahogany table, where Julian had spent years dictating terms to terrified junior partners, was now occupied by three stern-faced insolvency trustees, Marcus Vance, and myself.
Julian sat at the very end of the table, looking like a man walking toward the electric chair. His mother wasn't there—she was still dealing with her theatrical medical drama at the private clinic, though I knew for a fact her blood pressure was spiking entirely out of anger, not illness.
Marcus slid a thick stack of documents across the polished wood toward Julian.
“As per the finalized asset-restructuring agreement tied to the Apex Capital loan default,” Marcus announced, his voice crisp and professional, “Sterling Enterprises is hereby dissolved effective immediately. All remaining corporate assets, patents, real estate holdings, and intellectual property are being transferred outright to the primary stakeholder.”
Julian looked up slowly, his eyes bloodshot and desperate. He looked at Marcus, then slowly shifted his gaze toward me, sitting at the head of the table in a sharp, tailored white blazer and black trousers.
“Vivian...” he croaked. “Please. Not the company. My grandfather built this building. My family’s legacy—”
“Your grandfather’s legacy was a respected shipping firm,” I interrupted, my voice calm and steady as I leaned forward, resting my elbows on the table. “You turned it into a front for bad real estate investments, shell corporations, and embezzlement. Don’t insult your grandfather by pretending you preserved anything worth saving.”
“You can’t do this!” Julian suddenly snapped, a flash of his old arrogance flaring up before instantly dying away as the trustees glared at him. “You’re destroying me! What am I supposed to do now? I have nothing!”
“You have exactly what you started with, Julian,” I replied softly. “Zero. The only difference is that this time, there’s no quiet, wealthy wife in the background to bail you out when your house of cards collapses.”
I picked up a pen from the table, unscrewed the cap, and slid the final signature page across the wood toward him.
“Sign,” I said, throwing his exact words right back into his face.
May you like
For a long, agonizing moment, Julian sat frozen. The weight of his own greed, his arrogance, and his monumental stupidity pressed down on him with crushing finality. With trembling hands, he picked up the pen, pressed the nib against the paper, and signed his name away.
The Sterling dynasty was officially over.
