Chapter 7
The crisp autumn air of Seattle whipped through the glass canyon of the Calder Biotech plaza, carrying the scent of impending rain. Inside the executive suite on the thirty-fifth floor, however, the climate was artificially controlled, sterile, and suffocatingly tense.
Clara sat at the far end of the polished oak conference table, flanked by Dr. Thorne and corporate legal counsel, a sharp-eyed woman named Sarah Jenkins. Across from them sat Julian Vance, flanked not by lawyers, but by two private security consultants he had hired off the street. Julian looked haggard; his expensive red velvet suit was rumpled, the silk tie slightly askew, and his eyes burned with manic desperation.
“This is an absolute farce,” Julian roared, slamming his palm onto the wood. The heavy thud echoed off the floor-to-ceiling windows. “This company is harboring a corporate thief! That girl sitting across from you is using proprietary genetic research stolen directly from my private holding vaults!”
Dr. Thorne didn’t even flinch. He leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers. “Mr. Vance, we have reviewed your claims, as well as the accompanying cease-and-desist letter delivered by your private counsel this morning. Furthermore, our legal team has cross-referenced every single data point Dr. Vance has submitted for her project.”
“And?” Julian demanded, leaning over the table, spittle flying from his lips.
“And,” Sarah Jenkins intervened smoothly, sliding a thin manila envelope across the table, “we found that not only is Dr. Clara Vance’s research entirely original, but her methodology predates your private holding company’s existence by at least two years. Moreover, our compliance audit has uncovered several concerning financial irregularities involving your use of restricted trust funds—funds legally assigned to Dr. Vance.”
Julian’s face instantly lost all color. The bluster vanished from his posture, replaced by a sudden, violent trembling in his hands. “That’s... that’s private family business. It has nothing to do with Calder Biotech.”
“When you threaten our lead researcher with baseless lawsuits while simultaneously embezzling her legal inheritance, it becomes our business,” Dr. Thorne said coldly. “Security will escort you out of the building, Mr. Vance. If you attempt to contact Dr. Vance or any member of this facility again, our next communication will be delivered by the U.S. Attorney’s office.”
Julian stood up so fast his chair tipped backward, crashing loudly against the marble floor. He pointed a shaking, accusing finger directly at Clara, his voice cracking with humiliated rage. “You think you’ve won, you ungrateful little brat! I gave you everything! Without my name, you’re nothing!”
Clara did not flinch, nor did she look away. She met his furious gaze with absolute, unyielding stillness. “My name is Clara Vance,” she said, her voice clear, calm, and carrying across the silent boardroom. “And I earned every single thing I have.”
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Two security guards stepped forward, gently but firmly taking Julian by the arms and guiding him toward the elevators. As the heavy glass doors slid shut behind him, the tension in the room dissipated, leaving behind the quiet, steady hum of corporate progress.
***
