Chapter 12
The chaotic murmur of the boardroom abruptly died down as every eye at the table shifted back to Victor Vance. The polished corporate predator was suddenly cornered, his breathing shallow and rapid as he realized the trap had sprung shut around him.
“Residue?” Mrs. Kensington repeated, her voice sharp with sudden realization. “Arthur, are you saying someone deliberately sabotaged the estate?”
“Not just the estate, Mrs. Kensington,” Arthur said, his eyes never leaving his cousin’s pale face. “An industrial phosphorus charge was planted in the kitchen wall cavity specifically to destroy these archives and trap my staff inside. Security logs from the perimeter access gates and internal communication intercepts have already been forwarded to federal investigators.”
Victor’s hands gripped the edge of the teak table so tightly his knuckles turned chalk-white. The veneer of corporate sophistication had completely fallen away, revealing a desperate, cornered man.
“You can’t prove anything,” Victor hissed, his voice trembling slightly with suppressed rage. “The security logs were encrypted through my private server. You couldn't possibly have accessed them.”
“My private chef has a unique talent for finding things people try to bury, Victor,” Arthur replied smoothly, glancing back toward Clara.
Clara offered a calm, steady nod, though her hand remained securely comforting Penny in the tote bag.
Victor let out a harsh, bitter laugh, shaking his head as he stepped back from the table. “You arrogant fool, Arthur. You think holding onto a dusty old charter book saves this dying company? Blackwood Enterprises is bleeding capital. Without the restructuring deal I negotiated with the syndicate, this entire tower goes into foreclosure within six months. You’re fighting over the deck chairs of a sinking ship!”
“A ship that you helped torpedo from the inside,” Arthur countered instantly. He stepped forward, his imposing height towering over Victor. “Every financial discrepancy, every offshore shell company routing funds away from our manufacturing divisions—it’s all documented in the secondary ledgers you tried to burn. The board will see every single file before the hour is out.”
Victor’s eyes darted frantically around the room, realizing that every single ally he had cultivated over the past five years had quietly distanced themselves from his chair. The corporate syndicate he had promised the board was instantly vaporized by the undeniable proof sitting on the table.
May you like
“This isn't over,” Victor spat out, adjusting his ruined suit jacket with a jerky, nervous motion. He grabbed his leather briefcase from the floor and turned toward the private elevator. “You’ll be bankrupt within the quarter, Arthur. And I won't be around to watch you drown.”
With a swift, humiliated exit, Victor punched the elevator call button, stepping inside the moment the doors parted, disappearing downward into the subterranean depths of the city.
