Chapter 10 - Betrayal in the Boardroom
The Grand Ballroom at the Hudson River Pier was the pinnacle of high-society opulence. Over five hundred of the country’s most powerful figures—senators, foreign ambassadors, tech billionaires, and wall street moguls—mingled beneath towering floral arches while sipping vintage champagne.
At the center of the VIP terrace stood Donald Thorne, wearing a smug, triumphant grin as he shook hands with Arthur Blackwood.
"Everything is in place, Arthur," Thorne whispered, sipping his scotch. "The board members have all signed the emergency resolution. The moment Julian steps foot on that stage, we will announce his formal removal and unveil the merger between Vance Global and Blackwood Enterprises."
"And the catering girl?" Arthur asked, his voice low and dangerous.
"She won't be a problem," Thorne chuckled. "My men at the clinic confirmed the old man was injected. By now, the girl is either weeping over her father's corpse or hiding in a homeless shelter. She has no power here."
Suddenly, the grand double doors of the ballroom swung wide open.
The master of ceremonies’ voice boomed across the sound system: "Ladies and gentlemen, announcing the Chairman and Chief Executive Officer of Vance Global... Mr. Julian Vance, accompanied by Miss Elena Morales."
The entire ballroom fell dead silent.
Gasps rippled through the crowd as Julian walked down the grand staircase. He looked completely uninjured, radiant with power, his posture commanding absolute authority. And at his side, walking with breathtaking poise and elegance, was Elena Morales, her head held high, radiating a quiet, untouchable beauty that instantly drew every camera lens in the room.
Donald Thorne’s glass slipped from his fingers, shattering across the polished hardwood floor. Arthur Blackwood’s face darkened into a mask of pure, murderous rage.
"How is he here?" Thorne stammered, stepping back. "How are they both alive?"
Julian escorted Elena to the center of the ballroom, ignoring the barrage of flashbulbs. He walked directly toward the VIP terrace where the board of directors was seated, stopping five feet from Donald Thorne and Arthur Blackwood.
"Good evening, Donald. Arthur," Julian said, his voice smooth, resonant, and dripping with icy sarcasm. "I hope we haven't kept the board waiting."
Arthur Blackwood stepped forward, attempting to regain control of the room. "Julian, you are making a spectacle of yourself. In light of the recent... tragic events... the board of directors has convened an emergency session. We have unanimously voted to relieve you of your operational duties for your own well-being."
"Is that so, Arthur?" Julian asked, turning toward the ten board members seated behind them. "And on what legal authority do you make this claim?"
Donald Thorne stepped up, pulling an official corporate document from his leather portfolio. "On the authority of your late father's emergency succession charter, Julian! As Vice Chairman, I hold thirty-five percent of the voting proxy shares in trust! Combined with the Blackwood investment block, we control fifty-one percent of Vance Global! You are outvoted!"
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Julian smiled—a slow, predatory smile that sent a shiver of terror through Donald Thorne’s spine.
"You would control fifty-one percent, Donald... if those proxy shares were still valid," Julian said calmly. "Marcus, activate the display."
