Chapter 7 - The Boardroom Ambush
Forty-eight hours later, Graham Mercer was out on a two-million-dollar bond, secured against the only property he thought Elias couldn't touch: the commercial headquarters of Mercer Real Estate Development in the Financial District.
Graham stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling mirror in the executive bathroom, splashing cold water onto his face. His skin was gray, his eyes bloodshot. Vivian was still in jail; the magistrate had deemed her a flight risk and set bail at five million in cash, which neither of them had access to anymore.
"Just keep the board on your side," Graham muttered to his reflection, adjusting his tie with his uninjured hand. "If the board backs you, the investors won't panic. You can restructure the debt."
He pushed through the heavy frosted-glass doors of the thirty-fourth-floor boardroom.
Around the polished mahogany table sat the eight primary equity partners of Mercer Development. But none of them were looking at the quarterly projections displayed on the wall monitors. They were looking at the figure sitting in the chairman’s leather seat at the head of the table.
Lena.
I wore a tailored black maternity blazer, my hair pulled back into an elegant, severe chignon. My bruises were concealed beneath expert makeup, but the fire in my eyes was impossible to hide. Beside me sat Elias, flanked by two forensic accountants wearing Department of Justice badges.
"What is the meaning of this?" Graham shouted, his voice cracking as he slammed his palm on the table. "Lena, what are you doing in my office?! Board members, this woman has zero corporate standing! Security! Call security!"
"Sit down, Graham," said Marcus Vance-Sterling, Vivian’s uncle and the largest secondary shareholder in the company. The older man’s face was pale, his hands trembling over an open dossier.
"Marcus, you can't listen to her!" Graham insisted, his tone pleading. "She's trying to ruin me during a bitter divorce!"
"She isn't talking, Graham," Marcus said coldly, pushing the dossier toward him. "The federal prosecutors are."
Elias stood up, resting both palms flat on the table, leaning forward with predatory grace. "Section 4, Clause B of the Mercer Development Corporate Charter states that any general partner convicted or formally indicted on federal wire fraud automatically forfeits voting rights and executive authority. The shares immediately revert to the primary capital underwriter."
"I am the underwriter!" Graham snarled. "I funded this firm!"
"With what money, Graham?" Elias pulled a stack of faded, yellowed wire transfers from his briefcase and dropped them with a loud *thud* onto the table. "With the three point two million dollars transferred from the Vance Family Trust on August 14th, 2018? The trust that listed Lena Vance as the sole surviving beneficiary in the event of my death?"
The board members looked between Graham and the documents.
"You forged my sister's signature on the assignment of equity," Elias continued, his voice echoing in the dead-silent room. "You used her inheritance as collateral to secure the secondary loans from these gentlemen sitting around this table. Which means every building, every contract, every square foot of real estate this company owns was bought using stolen capital."
Graham’s chest heaved. He looked around the table, searching for an ally, a friendly face, a single glance of sympathy. Every single partner stared back with unvarnished disgust.
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"The federal court has recognized Lena as the sole legal owner of the founder's equity," Elias announced. "As of ten o'clock this morning, Graham Mercer has been terminated as Chief Executive Officer. Effective immediately."
***
