Chapter 4
The boardroom on the fortieth floor of Vance Global was bathed in the harsh, blue-white glare of LED panels and the distant flashing lights of the city skyline. Around the mahogany table sat six senior executives, their faces etched with severe tension. At the head of the table sat Richard Vance, his navy pinstripe suit still pristine, his posture rigidly defensive. Yet, beneath his confident veneer, a cold sweat pricked at the base of his neck.
“Let’s dispense with the pleasantries,” murmured Harrison Brooks, the senior managing partner, sliding a thick manila folder across the polished wood. “We received an anonymous tip late this afternoon containing financial audits, shell company registries, and unauthorized asset transfers originating from our Southeast Asian humanitarian fund dating back fifteen years.”
Richard didn’t touch the folder. He kept his hands flat on the table, fingers laced together. “Anonymous tips are standard operating procedure for short-sellers looking to destabilize our stock before tomorrow’s merger announcement, Harrison. You know how this game is played.”
“This isn’t about short-sellers, Richard,” Harrison replied coldly, opening the folder to reveal a series of highlighted wire transfers. “These accounts route directly through a private security contractor named Vance Tactical Solutions—a shell company registered under your name while you were stationed overseas. More importantly, the signature authorizing the transfer of relief funds into private accounts belongs to you.”
A murmur rippled through the boardroom. Eyes shifted uneasily around the table.
“That’s ancient history,” Richard said, his voice rising slightly, losing a fraction of its composure. “Those funds were utilized for tactical operations authorized by command during a volatile period of insurgency. Every penny was accounted for under classified directives.”
“Classified by whom?” asked Sarah Lin, the chief legal counsel, leaning forward with a skeptical gaze. “We checked the military archives. There is no record of Vance Tactical Solutions operating as a sanctioned contractor in that sector. In fact, the unit assigned to that region was completely wiped out, save for one commanding officer who was officially listed as missing in action for over a decade.”
Richard’s throat tightened. The ghost from the lobby—Arthur Miller—seized his chest like an iron fist. He swallowed hard, forcing his breathing to remain steady. “The archives are incomplete. Bureaucratic oversight is rampant in military transitions. I will handle the Department of Defense liaison personally tomorrow morning.”
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“There won't be a tomorrow morning for you at this firm, Richard,” Harrison said flatly. “The board has voted unanimously to suspend your executive powers effective immediately, pending a full federal inquiry. Hand over your security badge and office keys before you leave the building.”
Silence descended upon the room, heavy and absolute. Richard stood up slowly, his tall frame trembling with suppressed fury. He looked around the table at the men and women who had praised his brilliance just twenty-four hours ago, now avoiding his gaze like plague victims. Without a word, he unpinned the small US flag from his lapel, placed it gently on the table, and walked out of the boardroom without looking back.
