Chapter 18 - The Summit at Timber Pass
The wind howling across the jagged precipice of Timber Pass was sharp enough to slice skin. I stood beside the open door of my federal SUV, my hands buried deep in the pockets of my heavy wool coat, my breath pluming into white clouds against the blinding white expanse of the mountain peaks. Below us, the highway looked like a thin black ribbon slashed carelessly across the chest of the wilderness.
A sleek, black Mercedes Maybach with reinforced armored plating and diplomatic plates crunched to a halt a few yards away. The rear door swung open, and Arthur Sterling stepped out, leaning heavily on an ebony cane with a silver wolf-head handle. Despite his advanced age and the biting sub-zero temperature, his posture was rigidly straight, his dark overcoat tailored to absolute perfection.
"You certainly know how to pick a dramatic venue, Victoria," Arthur said, his voice carrying clearly over the roar of the alpine wind as he limped closer, his leather shoes crunching in the crusty snow. "Reminds me of the day we forced your father out of his own board seat twenty years ago. Cold, high up, and entirely devoid of mercy."
I didn't flinch at the mention of my father. That wound had long since been cauterized by anger and transformed into pure fuel. "Don't compare me to the old men who built their fortunes on backroom handshakes and corporate theft, Arthur. My father was an honest engineer. You and your cronies were just parasites waiting for a chance to bleed him dry."
Arthur stopped a few feet away, leaning slightly on his cane, his pale blue eyes studying my face with a mixture of clinical detachment and profound respect. "And yet, here you are, standing on the exact same mountain, listening to a parasite’s business proposition."
"I'm listening because I want to understand the limits of your desperation," I replied evenly, turning to face him fully. "Daniel is sitting in a federal holding cell, facing twenty years for procurement fraud and tax evasion, and his own uncle calls me within six hours to offer me his throne. Why? Surely you have dozens of loyal lapdogs in your corporate stable who would sell their own mothers for a shot at the Sterling CEO seat."
Arthur let out a dry, rasping cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. "Loyalty is cheap, Victoria. Competence is rare. Absolute, ruthless vision is nearly extinct. My lapdogs are cowards. They panic when a federal investigator looks at their tax returns. You? You spent five years living in the shadow of destruction, eating dirt, playing the long, agonizing game of institutional chess, and then walked into a Christmas gala wearing a dress made of glass just to shatter it over my nephew's head in front of the entire elite establishment."
He took another step closer, his gaze locking onto mine with terrifying intensity. "That wasn't just revenge. That was an execution. And Sterling Holdings does not survive by employing cowards; we survive by absorbing our executioners."
"If I take the seat," I said, my voice cutting through the wind like a razor, "my terms are absolute. First, the remaining assets of the Vance Group are to be liquidated and redistributed directly to the contractors and families your nephew defrauded—starting with my father’s old engineering registry. Second, your personal voting shares in Sterling Holdings are placed into a blind trust controlled entirely by my legal team. And third—you retire effective immediately, moving to a nice, quiet villa in the Alps where your only job is feeding the swans."
Arthur stared at me in stunned silence for three long seconds. Then, slowly, a thin, ironic smile stretched across his weathered face.
May you like
"You drive a remarkably hard bargain, my dear," he murmured, extending a gloved hand toward me. "Consider the Vance liquidation approved, my shares transferred, and my retirement booked. Welcome to the top of the world, Victoria. Let's see how long you can keep us all from falling off."
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