Chapter 13 - The Poisoned Well
The line went dead.
Within minutes, emergency alerts flashed across my laptop screen. The stock of Hart Global was plunging into a freefall as fake news stories began spreading like wildfire across international media. Headlines falsely claimed that Hart Global’s flagship pediatric medications were contaminated with toxic heavy metals.
Panic gripped the market. Shareholders began panic-selling, and Blackwood Group was sitting at the bottom of the avalanche, buying up every floating share for pennies on the dollar.
"It's a coordinated raid," Jonathan said, his eyes glued to the Bloomberg terminal. "If they reach thirty percent ownership by midnight, they can force an emergency vote to freeze your authority as Chairwoman."
"Deploy the emergency reserve funds," I ordered immediately. "Buy back every single share on the open market."
"We can't," Jonathan hesitated, looking sick. "Our liquidity reserves in Zurich... they've been frozen by an injunction."
I turned slowly toward him. "Frozen by who?"
"By the Swiss financial tribunal," Jonathan whispered. "An internal whistleblower inside Hart Global filed affidavit evidence claiming you misappropriated funds five years ago during Flynn's trial."
"A mole inside my inner circle?" I asked quietly.
Just then, my personal security chief, David, burst into the room. "Ma'am! We have an emergency at the estate! The children's nanny just collapsed—she was poisoned after tasting the kids' afternoon milk."
My heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second. The cold terror that had struck me outside the ICU five years ago flooded back, but this time it transformed instantly into lethal, unyielding fury.
"Are Leo and Maya hurt?" I screamed.
May you like
"They're safe! Security intercepted the tray before they drank," David reported. "We've locked down the entire perimeter."
"Jonathan," I said, turning to my attorney with eyes as cold as death. "Initiate Protocol Zero."
