Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Storm
Twenty-four hours later, I stood on the 50th floor of the Aegis Tower in downtown Seattle.
Gone was the gray oversized sweater and tied-back wet hair. I wore a tailored midnight-blue silk suit, my hair styled in a sleek, sharp bob, and high-heeled pumps that clicked with absolute authority against the polished Italian marble.
My chief legal officer, Arthur Pendelton, handed me a tablet. “The divorce papers have been served to Julian at his office. Or rather, where his office used to be. Vance Marketing has officially dissolved its subsidiary contract with Aegis.”
“And Eleanor?” I asked, taking a sip of black espresso.
“She was evicted from the Blackwood mansion this morning at 8:00 AM by local marshals,” Arthur said, a thin smile playing on his lips. “She tried to claim ownership of the antique furniture, but all invoices prove they belong to the trust. She’s currently staying at a budget motel near the highway.”
“Good,” I said smoothly. “What about Julian’s reaction?”
“He’s frantic. He called the office thirty times today trying to reach you. When he couldn't, he reached out to the board members, trying to claim you’re mentally unstable and stealing his assets.”
I laughed—a sharp, amused sound. “Let him try.”
At 10:00 AM, I walked into the main boardroom for the emergency shareholder meeting. Julian had somehow used his old security pass—which hadn't been revoked at the building perimeter yet—to burst into the room alongside Eleanor and his legal representative, a sleazy strip-mall lawyer named Harold Vance (no relation).
“There she is!” Eleanor shrieked from the back of the room, pointing a trembling, diamond-ringed finger at me. “The fraud! She stole my son’s hard-earned company! Board members, look at her! She’s an uneducated girl who used magic tricks to transfer my son’s patents to her name!”
The twelve members of the Aegis Board of Directors—men and women who managed billions in venture capital—looked at Eleanor as if she were a lunatic who had escaped from an asylum.
Julian stepped forward, looking disheveled, his suit unpressed. “Clara, stop this madness! Just give me back access to the bank accounts, and we can talk about this like adults! You can't just ruin my family because of a little spilled coffee!”
I walked to the head of the boardroom table and sat in the central leather chair. Marcus, who had flown in from the resort, stood behind me like a sentinel.
“Julian,” I said, resting my chin on my laced fingers. “You still don't get it, do you? You think you were the founder of Vance Marketing?”
“I am the founder!” Julian yelled.
“You were an entry-level intern at a firm I bought eight years ago,” I replied coldly. “I created Vance Marketing as a shell company so you wouldn't feel insecure earning less than your wife. Every client you signed was directed to you by my executive team. Every contract was signed because Aegis guaranteed your credit.”
I nodded to Arthur, who projected a document onto the massive glass screens filling the room.
“This is the incorporation charter of Aegis Global Software, signed nine years ago,” Arthur announced loudly. “Founded solely by Clara Vance. Julian Vance has zero equity, zero IP rights, and as of yesterday, zero employment.”
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Julian stared at the screen, his chest heaving as the cold, brutal truth finally punctured his thick skull. “No... no, Clara... you said you just did basic data entry from home...”
“I let you think that because every time I talked about software engineering, your mother told me a woman with a high-school diploma shouldn't speak about big things,” I said, standing up. “I let you believe what you wanted because it kept the peace. But peace is over.”
