Chapter 7 - Whispers in the Boardroom of Wolves
The arrest of Arthur and Camille Vance at the Symphony Hall sent shockwaves through Wall Street and international financial markets. By the following morning, the shares of Vance Enterprises had plummeted seventy percent in pre-market trading.
At nine o’clock sharp, I entered the glass-walled boardroom of Vance Tower in downtown Boston.
Twelve terrified board members sat around the forty-foot mahogany table, sweating through their tailored suits. They had called an emergency meeting to declare corporate bankruptcy, but they didn't realize who held their fate in his hands.
I took the seat at the head of the table—the seat that had belonged to Arthur Vance for twenty-five years.
Marco placed a thick stack of legal contracts in front of the corporate secretary.
“Gentlemen,” I said, leaning back and resting my elbows on the leather armrests. “As of forty-five minutes ago, Moretti Global Capital purchased one hundred percent of Vance Enterprises’ senior debt from the European banking consortium. I now hold the liens on every building, every laboratory, every patent, and every executive vehicle owned by this company.”
The Vice Chairman turned pale. “Mr. Moretti... please. We had no knowledge of Arthur’s pharmaceutical counterfeiting. We were misled!”
“Ignorance is not a legal defense in my world,” I replied cold-bloodedly. “You sat in these leather chairs and cashed eight-figure dividend checks while Dr. Ronald Brooks’s life was destroyed and innocent trial patients suffered permanent nerve damage.”
I pulled a single document from my suit jacket and slid it across the glass surface.
“This is a total restructuring agreement. Vance Pharmaceuticals is hereby dissolved. All laboratory facilities, clinical data, and medical patents are being transferred immediately to a newly formed non-profit entity: The Brooks Institute of Neurovascular Medicine.”
The board members looked at each other in stunned silence.
“And who will serve as the Chief Executive Officer and Chairperson of this new institute?” the corporate attorney asked with a trembling voice.
The double doors of the boardroom opened.
Elena stepped inside, wearing an immaculate navy tailored suit, her hair pulled back in an elegant twist, carrying a leather portfolio. Her hazel eyes were sharp, confident, and commanding.
“I will,” Elena said clearly, taking her seat at the right hand of the table.
The board members looked from Elena to me, realizing that their reign of corrupt privilege was completely over.
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“Sign the restructuring documents,” I instructed the board, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Or Special Agent Harrison will have thirty more warrants unsealed before the market closes at four o’clock.”
It took less than five minutes for every board member to sign away the Vance empire.
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