Chapter 6 - The Setup at the Boardroom
Twenty minutes after I left the executive floor, Michael called.
I didn't answer. I sat in the back of Julian’s chauffeured town car, watching the notifications light up my screen like emergency flares.
*Three missed calls from Michael.*
*One text message: "Where the hell are you? What did you say to Chloe?"*
*A second text: "Sign the papers, Olivia. Don't make me destroy what’s left of your father’s name."*
Julian glanced over from his laptop. “She broke already?”
“She broke the second she realized Michael hadn't built an impenetrable fortress around her,” I said, setting the phone facedown on the leather seat. “She’s calling him right now, hysterical, demanding guarantees. When an arrogant man like Michael is cornered by an unstable mistress, he overcorrects.”
“Indeed he does,” Julian murmured, turning his screen toward me. “Take a look at the Carter Nova internal proxy filings. Michael just called an emergency board session for two o'clock tomorrow afternoon. The agenda has one item: *Emergency Motion for the Suspension of Voting Rights of Shareholder Olivia Carter under Section 4B of the Corporate Bylaws.*”
“Section 4B,” I repeated, remembering the fine print of my father’s founding charter. “The mental incapacitation clause.”
“Correct,” Julian said. “To trigger Section 4B without a formal court order, Michael needs three things: an official police incident report indicating violent behavior, a psychiatric affidavit from a licensed physician, and an eighty percent supermajority vote from the board of directors.”
“He has the fabricated police report from Chloe’s fall,” I reasoned. “And he certainly has the votes from his venture capital cronies. But what about the psychiatric affidavit?”
Julian smiled darkly. “That’s the beauty of his trap. He doesn't have one yet. And that is why he called Dr. David Sterling forty minutes ago.”
Dr. David Sterling had been my family’s physician for nearly twenty years. He was the man who had delivered Lily. He was the man who had held my hand in the hospital corridor while Lily’s small body grew cold, crying silent tears with me. If there was one man whose professional integrity was unimpeachable in the eyes of the board, it was Sterling.
“Michael thinks he can buy Sterling?” I asked, cold fury spiking in my veins.
“Michael doesn't buy people, Olivia; he blackmails them,” Julian replied. “Three years ago, Dr. Sterling’s son was involved in an offshore trading scandal in Hong Kong that could have resulted in an eight-year prison sentence. Michael used his international banking connections to bury the investigation. Dr. Sterling has been in Michael’s debt ever since.”
“He’s going to force Sterling to sign an affidavit declaring me clinically insane,” I said, the horrific simplicity of the plan laying bare before me.
“He is,” Julian said. “The meeting between Michael and Dr. Sterling is set for eight o'clock tonight at the private dining room of the Jonathan Club in downtown Los Angeles. Michael intends to have the signed document in his briefcase before the board convenes tomorrow.”
I closed my eyes for a brief second. In the darkness behind my eyelids, I saw Lily’s face—her wide, curious hazel eyes, the tiny dimple on her left cheek, the sound of her laughter echoing down the hallways of the Bel-Air house before the silence took over.
Michael hadn't just neglected her in life; he was now using the very doctor who had tried to save her to bury her mother in an institution.
“Julian,” I said, opening my eyes.
“Yes, Olivia?”
“Does your team have access to the audio-visual feeds inside the Jonathan Club’s private suites?”
Julian adjusted his spectacles, his expression turning lethal. “The Jonathan Club uses an outdated analog security loop installed in 2018. We have owned their internal network for forty-eight hours. Not only will we have audio, Olivia. We will have four-K broadcast-quality video with encrypted fiber-optic transmission.”
“Good,” I said. “Because I’m not going to stop Dr. Sterling from going to that dinner.”
Julian looked at me, a hint of surprise crossing his features. “You’re going to let Michael get the signature?”
“I want him to get the signature,” I replied, my voice steady and cold as carved granite. “I want him to hold that paper in his hand. I want him to walk into the boardroom tomorrow afternoon believing he has completely crushed me. The higher he climbs on his mountain of lies, the further he has to fall.”
“And what about Dr. Sterling?” Julian asked. “The man will ruin his career.”
“Sterling won't sign it,” I said softly.
“How can you be sure? Michael has leverage over his son.”
I reached into my briefcase and pulled out a small, velvet-lined jeweler’s box. Inside rested a vintage platinum pocket watch, its casing engraved with my father’s initials.
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“Because thirty minutes ago, my father’s trust executed an unconditional wire transfer to the Hong Kong Monetary Authority, completely satisfying the civil restitution penalties against Sterling’s son,” I said. “Julian, Michael thinks he is the only one who understands the power of money. He forgets that my father taught him how to write a check.”
***
