Chapter 8 - Stripped of Everything
Brendan fell into an empty chair, his head dropping onto the table, his shoulders heaving with silent, pathetic sobs. "I didn't think it would happen... I thought we had more time..."
"You had seven days, Brendan," I said, standing tall beside the urn. "And every single day, the pediatric ICU reached out to your office. Every single day, your secretary was instructed by Samantha to mark the calls as non-essential domestic interruptions."
Sterling stood up, his jaw set in cold fury. He looked around the room at his fellow board members, who were nodding in grim, unanimous agreement.
"Under the emergency provisions of the corporate charter," Sterling said, looking directly at Raymond Vance, "I move for an immediate vote of no confidence against Chief Executive Officer Brendan Fairchild and Chief Financial Officer Ximena Fairchild."
"Seconded," called out three board members simultaneously.
"The vote is unnecessary," Raymond replied smoothly, opening his portfolio. "Under Section 14 of the original Harrison Vanguard indenture, the executive authority of the Fairchild family terminates automatically upon proof of criminal negligence toward the Harrison lineage. As the sole surviving heir and trustee, Nora Vance-Harrison possesses eighty-two percent of the direct voting rights of this company."
Raymond turned to me, presenting an executive decree pen.
"Mrs. Harrison," Raymond said, his voice echoing in the dead silence of the room. "The motion before you is the total dissolution of the current executive board, the immediate dismissal of Brendan Fairchild and Ximena Fairchild without severance, and the liquidation of all stock options held under their personal names to satisfy civil liabilities."
I took the pen. The metal was cool against my skin.
Brendan looked up from the table, his eyes wild with terror. "Nora, please! If you take my shares, I'm ruined! I have personal guarantees on three commercial loans! The banks will take everything! I will be bankrupt by nightfall!"
"Then you had better find a good shelter, Brendan," I said softly.
I signed the document with a single, unbroken stroke.
"It is done," Raymond announced, collecting the signed paper. "Security will now escort Mr. Fairchild and Ms. Fairchild from the premises. All company vehicles, access badges, and communication devices are to be surrendered immediately at the door."
Four armed security officers stepped forward from the back of the room. Two of them took Ximena by the arms as she began to kick and scream profanities, her polished facade completely crumbling into hysterical madness.
"You won't get away with this, you little bitch!" Ximena shrieked, her face turning purple as they dragged her backward through the double doors. "My father built this city! You're nothing without our name!"
The doors clicked shut behind her, cutting off her screams.
Brendan didn't scream. When the guards placed their hands on his shoulders, he stood up slowly, like an old man whose bones had turned to dust. He looked at me, his eyes pleading, searching my face for even a microscopic shred of the woman who used to wait up for him with dinner on the table.
He found nothing. Only the cold, unrelenting mirror of his own destruction.
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"Chloe loved you," I said to him, my voice dropping so only he could hear. "Her last coherent words were, 'Tell Daddy I'm sorry I broke the medicine.' She thought she was the one who failed you."
Brendan gasped, a sound like a dying animal being crushed under a wheel. He collapsed completely into the arms of the security officers, his legs dragging behind him as they hauled him out of the boardroom, leaving a trail of scuffed leather across the polished marble threshold.
