Chapter 6
The Price of Treason.The sleek, minimalist boardroom of Sloane & Associates smelled of expensive leather and corporate arrogance. Arthur Sloane sat at the head of the long mahogany table, a smug smile plastered across his face. Beside him sat Elliot, looking significantly better dressed than he had a week ago, clearly funded by his uncle’s money. He wore a fresh charcoal suit and carried himself with a manufactured confidence that irritated me.
On my side of the table sat Eleanor and myself. I hadn't brought a single piece of paper. I only brought my phone, which rested face-down on the polished wood.
"Thank you for coming, Mrs. Vance—or should I say, Ms. Davenport, given the impending paperwork," Arthur Sloane began, his voice dripping with theatrical warmth. "We are here today to offer you a way out. A quiet resolution before my client files a multi-million-dollar lawsuit that will inevitably drag your family name through the mud."
"I’m listening," I said, leaning back, crossing my legs.
Elliot smirked, leaning forward. "It’s simple, Victoria. Fifty million dollars, lump sum, tax-free. And a ten percent non-voting equity stake in Vanguard. You give me that, and I sign the non-disclosure agreement. The lawsuit disappears, the media stories dry up, and you can go back to playing queen of your little castle."
"And if I refuse?" I asked, my voice flat, showing neither anger nor fear.
Sloane chuckled, tapping a thick manila folder on the table. "If you refuse, we file the petition in federal court in exactly thirty minutes. We have statements from several former employees claiming a toxic work environment under your management. We have copies of financial transfers that, when presented with the right... coloration, look highly suspicious. The media will have a field day. Vanguard's stock will plunge, and your board will force you out anyway. It's basic math, Ms. Davenport."
"Basic math," I repeated softly. "You know, Elliot, that was always your problem. You never looked past the first equation."
I reached forward and flipped my phone over. I tapped the screen, opening a live news broadcast, and slid the device into the center of the table.
Sloane and Elliot both frowned, looking down at the screen.
The banner at the bottom of the financial news channel read: FLASH: SEC LAUNCHES INVESTIGATION INTO BLACKWOOD HOLDINGS FOR INSIDER TRADING; ASSETS FROZEN PENDING AUDIT.
Elliot’s face went entirely white. He gasped, his eyes darting from the phone to me, his hands beginning to shake. "What... what is this?"
"That, Elliot, is your financial lifeline disappearing," I said, my voice cutting through the room like dry ice. "Your uncle Charles was arrested forty-five minutes ago at his home in Greenwich. The SEC has seized all corporate and personal accounts associated with Blackwood Holdings. Which means, Mr. Sloane..." I turned my gaze to the lawyer, whose smug smile had completely vanished. "...your client no longer has the funds to pay your retainer. In fact, given the asset seizure, any money he has already paid you from those offshore accounts will likely be clawed back by the federal government as illicit funds."
Sloane’s mouth opened slightly, his legal mind frantically trying to recalculate the parameters of the room. He looked at Elliot, then back at the TV screen, realizing that his high-profile payday had just evaporated into thin air.
"This is intimidation!" Elliot stammered, standing up so fast his chair rolled backward. "You did this! You orchestrated this!"
"I simply provided the regulatory authorities with the missing pieces of a puzzle they had been trying to solve for eighteen months," I said smoothly. "Your uncle was sloppy, Elliot. Just like you. You thought you could use his money to bully me, without ever realizing that his money was dirtier than your conscience."
I stood up, smoothing the front of my blazer. Eleanor followed suit, picking up her briefcase with a satisfied snap.
"The settlement offer is officially off the table," I announced, looking down at the broken man across from me. "We are proceeding to trial on the original terms. You will receive exactly zero dollars. You will receive zero shares. And furthermore, I am filing criminal charges against you for corporate embezzlement and fraud based on the evidence we gathered last week."
"Victoria, please!" Elliot cried out, the bravado completely shattering as he fell to his knees, gripping the edge of the mahogany table. "You can't do this to me! I'll have nothing! I'll go to prison!"
"Then I suggest you get used to the jumpsuit, Elliot. It doesn't come with fur trim, but I’m sure you’ll find it quite fitting," I said.
Arthur Sloane didn't even try to stop us as we walked out of the room. In fact, as the doors closed, I could hear him already demanding that Elliot vacate his office immediately.
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When we stepped into the elevator, Eleanor let out a long breath, a rare smile breaking across her stern face. "That was a masterclass, Victoria. Charles Vance won't be able to post bail for months, let alone help Elliot."
"It was never about Charles, Eleanor," I said, watching the floor numbers count down. "It was about showing everyone who thinks they can take what’s mine exactly what happens when they try. Elliot was the warning shot. The rest of the market will now know to stay away."
