Chapter 3 - The Boardroom AmbushThe following morning, the glass doors of Vance Logistics headquarters on the 45th floor swung open with a sharp click.
I didn't go to my private office. Instead, I walked straight into the executive boardroom.
The board members were already seated, murmuring among themselves. Julian sat at the right-hand side of the mahogany table, wearing an expensive bespoke Armani suit, tapping his designer pen against the wood with an air of absolute arrogance.
“Ah, Sebastian. Finally,” Julian smirked, not even standing up to greet me. “Mother called me this morning crying her eyes out. What is this ridiculous nonsense about kicking her out of the house and threatening to fire me? You’ve let that pregnant maid of yours get entirely too comfortable.”
The entire boardroom went dead silent. Heads turned sharply toward Julian, then toward me.
I didn't say a word. I simply walked up to the head of the table, pulled out my leather chair, and sat down. I placed the encrypted drive and a thick stack of forensic audit reports right in front of me.
“Julian,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “Open your corporate tablet. Log into the regional ledger.”
Julian frowned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Oh, come on, big brother. I don't have time for your domestic power trips. I have a meeting with the overseas shipping partners in twenty minutes—"
“I said, open the ledger,” I commanded, slamming my hand down on the table with enough force to rattle the crystal water carafes.
Julian flinched. Muttering under his breath, he pulled out his tablet and tapped the screen. Within seconds, his confident smirk vanished, replaced by a ghastly, pale panic. His fingers trembled as he scrolled through page after page of red numbers and offshore transaction trails.
“This... this is a mistake,” Julian stammered, looking around the room at the stern faces of the board members. “These files... someone hacked my account! This isn't mine!”
“Four million, two hundred thousand dollars,” I read aloud from the audit report, standing up and walking slowly around the table toward him. “Funneled through a shell company registered under Eleanor Vance’s maiden name. Over eighteen months. Right under my nose.”
“Sebastian, listen to me, I can explain—” Julian stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Mom said we deserved it! You were spending all your money on Clara and her useless family, we just wanted to secure our future—!”
Bang!
My fist connected straight with Julian’s jaw.
The sound of flesh hitting bone echoed through the massive boardroom. Julian stumbled backward, crashing into the leather chairs and sprawling hard onto the floor, clutching his bleeding lip in sheer disbelief.
“Security,” I said coldly, looking toward the heavy double doors.
The doors flew open instantly, and two federal-grade private security officers marched in, flanked by two uniformed Chicago police detectives.
“Julian Vance,” Detective Miller announced, stepping forward and flashing a badge. “You are under arrest for corporate embezzlement, wire fraud, and grand larceny. You have the right to remain silent.”
“You can’t do this!” Julian shrieked, struggling as the officers hauled him up by his arms and slapped handcuffs onto his wrists. “I’m your brother! Mom won't let you get away with this! Sebastian! SEBASTIAN!”
His desperate screams faded down the hallway as the officers dragged him away toward the private elevators.
The boardroom was dead silent. Not a single board member dared to breathe.
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I adjusted my cuffs, picked up my files, and looked around the room at the stunned faces of my executives.
“The meeting is adjourned,” I said smoothly. “And if anyone ever disrespects my wife or my family again... they can join my brother in holding a prison cell door.”
