Chapter 7
The cool air of the server room rushed out past the open door, carrying the dry, artificial scent of climate-controlled hardware. Marcus Vance stood beside the glowing green monitor banks, his dark hair neatly parted, looking as though he were presiding over a board meeting rather than a late-night corporate heist.
"Julian," Marcus said smoothly, his voice lacking any trace of guilt. "I wondered how long it would take you to figure out the security routing. You always were overly fond of these archaic architectural eccentricities."
Julian stepped fully into the server room, his tall frame blocking the narrow doorway while Walter and Clara positioned themselves slightly behind him. Julian’s hand remained steady at his side, though his knuckles were white with tension.
"You bypassed the research protocols, Marcus," Julian said, his voice dangerously quiet. "You authorized the redirection of the baseline antidotes and framed Clara for a security breach to cover your tracks."
Marcus let out a soft, dismissive chuckle, walking slowly around the edge of the central console. "Framed? Clara made her own choices the moment she decided to smuggle classified foundation property out of the facility. What we are doing here isn't a crime, Julian; it’s the natural evolution of human capital management."
"You're weaponizing neurological recovery treatments into compliance agents," Clara said, stepping forward into the light of the server racks, her injured wrist held stiffly against her side. "Dr. Henderson didn't die of an aneurysm. You murdered him because he refused to sign off on human trials for the executive syndicate."
Marcus’s expression hardened just a fraction, the polite smile slipping to reveal the cold ambition underneath. "Henderson was a sentimental fool who couldn't see the bigger picture. The syndicate is investing billions into neuro-adaptive software that will eliminate operational dissent across global markets. Vance Industries isn't just a pharmaceutical company anymore, cousin. We are becoming the architects of corporate stability."
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Julian took two deliberate steps toward the console, his gaze locked onto the glowing upload progress bar on the main monitor. "The board never approved this transition, Marcus. The foundation charter explicitly prohibits military or behavioral application of our medical patents."
"The board doesn't exist anymore," Marcus replied calmly, tapping the screen with his index finger. "The majority shares were transferred to Meridian Trust at sundown. As of twenty minutes ago, I am the sole controlling director of Vance Enterprises."
