Chapter 4: The Boardroom Predator
Three days later, sixty miles south in Manhattan, Julian Kane stood at the head of a twenty-seat boardroom on the 42nd floor of the Meridian Tower.
He had spent the weekend trying to drown the humiliation of Willow Road in expensive scotch and private club parties. He had convinced himself that the incident was an anomaly—some eccentric local retired mobster with hired muscle playing bodyguard in the countryside. He was back in his element now, surrounded by glass, steel, and spreadsheets.
"The restructuring of Apex Foundry is non-negotiable," Kane announced to the board, tapping his laser pointer against the projected balance sheet. "We close the Utica plant by Q3. That eliminates four hundred redundant union positions and yields an immediate fourteen percent bump in operational margins."
An older board member frowned. "Kane, that plant is the entire economic spine of that town. Four hundred families depend on that payroll. These people have given thirty years to Apex."
"Then they should have diversified their skill sets," Kane scoffed, adjusting his silk cuff links. "Sentimentality doesn't pay dividends, Arthur. We buy the debt, we liquidate the assets, and we walk away with the management fee."
The double doors at the back of the boardroom swung open without a knock.
Kane’s jaw clenched in annoyance. "I specifically stated no interruptions during—"
May you like
The words died in his throat.
Walking into the room, flanked by two corporate attorneys and Viktor in his tailored black suit, was Marcus Vance.
