"His leased BMW," Evelyn corrected without looking up from her ledger. "A lease funded through account 402-B, which I froze at six o'clock yesterday evening."
"Technically, the car is already subject to an impound order."
"Is his mother with him?" I asked, taking a slow sip of coffee.
"Of course she is," Julian chuckled. "She's wearing sunglasses inside the lobby and screaming at the front-desk guards that she's a senior executive and that Claire Vance is having a manic episode."
"She’s threatening to sue every guard who touches her."
I set my cup down with a soft click. "Let them up."
Julian arched an eyebrow. "Are you sure?"
"We have enough evidence to have them arrested on the sidewalk right now."
"I want them in this room," I said evenly. "I want Daniel to look across this table and see the board members he claimed were his loyal allies."
"I want every shred of delusion stripped from him before the federal agents make their entrance."
Julian nodded and tapped his earpiece. "Frank."
"Escort Mr. Sterling and his mother up to Executive Boardroom A. Do not let them touch any computer terminals or enter their former offices. Bring them straight to us."
Two minutes later, the double doors of the boardroom swung open with violent force.
Patricia burst through first, her face pale beneath heavy makeup, her hair slightly disheveled. She was clutching a designer handbag like a weapon.
Behind her stumbled Daniel. He looked like a man who hadn't slept a wink; his eyes were bloodshot, his designer shirt wrinkled, and his hands trembling at his sides.
"Claire!" Patricia bellowed, marching straight toward the mahogany table.
"This circus ends right now! Do you hear me?"
You disgraced my family in front of the entire city yesterday! You made my son look like a criminal!
"I have already contacted our attorneys, and we are filing for emotional distress, defamation, and breach of promise! We will take every single penny—"
"Sit down, Patricia," I said.
The tone was so flat, so utterly devoid of emotion, that Patricia halted in mid-stride.
"Don't you tell me to sit down!" she spat, though her eyes darted nervously to the five board members seated around the table. "Gentlemen!"
Mr. Harris, Dr. Aris, thank God you're here. You need to call an emergency shareholder vote immediately.
"Claire Vance has suffered a complete psychological breakdown. She disrupted her own wedding and is attempting an illegal, hostile takeover of my son's operational control!"
None of the board members moved. Arthur Harris, a sixty-year-old venture capitalist who had known my father for thirty years, slowly folded his hands over his stomach and looked at Daniel with utter pity.
"Daniel," Arthur said quietly. "Did you honestly never tell your mother who owns this firm?"
Daniel swallowed hard, his throat clicking audibly in the quiet room. "Arthur... listen to me."
This is a personal dispute between Claire and me. It shouldn't affect corporate governance.
"We had an argument before the ceremony. She's overreacting because of some real estate paperwork—"
"Some real estate paperwork?" I interrupted, leaning back in my leather chair.
"You mean the predatory extortion scheme you and your mother hatched over brunch three weeks ago?"
Patricia sneered. "Extortion?"
It was a pre-marital contribution! A sign of good faith!
"You have hundreds of millions, Claire! What are two miserable condos to you?"
"They were bought with my money," I said. "Just like this building."
"Just like the proprietary patents our entire software ecosystem relies on. Patents filed under my name, Julian's name, and my father's holding company."
Daniel took two steps toward me, his hands raised in an attitude of desperate supplication. "Claire, baby, please."
Send everyone out of the room. Just give me ten minutes.
Just you and me. Let me explain.
You know how my mother is—she gets anxious about money, she pushed me! I swear to God I didn't want to bring that folder to the church.
"She forced it into my hands right before the processional!"
"You cowardly little rat!" Patricia shrieked, whipping around to face her son, her face contorting in disbelief.
"You told me she was a pushover! You told me she'd sign anything to avoid making a scene in front of the society reporters!"
"You said you had her wrapped around your little finger!"
"Shut up, Mom! Shut the hell up!"
Daniel screamed back, his voice echoing off the floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the harbor. "You ruined my life!"
"I was twenty-four hours away from being set for life, and your greedy, impatient hands burned it to the ground!"
The board members looked on in stone-faced disgust.
"Fascinating," Julian remarked dryly, tapping a key on his laptop. "The domestic harmony of the Sterling family is truly something to behold."
I opened the top binder on the table and slid it across the smooth wood until it hit Daniel’s belt buckle.
"Page twelve, Daniel," I said.
He looked down, his trembling hands slowly turning the cover.
"What... what is this?" he whispered.