Chapter Sixty-Six: Checkmate

Day Six

Hell arrived at nine in the morning, delivered by every news outlet in America.

I stared at the wall of monitors in the war room, watching my reputation get torn apart in real time. CNN was running a segment about "inexperienced heiresses destroying family legacies." Fox Business had financial analysts calling Van Alston Industries "a cautionary tale about nepotism." The Wall Street Journal's headline read: "Van Alston Empire Crumbles Under Weight of Family Drama."

"This is different from what we planned," Sarah said quietly, her fingers flying across her keyboard as she tried to track the source of the attacks. "These aren't the controlled leaks we orchestrated. Someone else is feeding information to the media."

"Blackstone," I said, watching a particularly brutal segment where a business professor I'd never heard of explained why companies like Van Alston should be "put out of their misery before they drag down the entire market."

But the media assault was just the beginning.

By ten o'clock, we were dealing with surprise regulatory investigations from three different federal agencies. The SEC wanted to review our financial disclosures. The EPA had questions about environmental compliance at our manufacturing facilities. Immigration services were suddenly very interested in the work visas of our international employees.

"It's coordinated," Jules said, ending yet another phone call with a government official who wanted to schedule an "urgent meeting" about some previously unknown violation. "Every agency that could possibly make our lives difficult just discovered problems that need immediate attention."

"How is this legal?" David Chen asked, looking overwhelmed by the stack of official-looking documents that had been delivered by courier.

"It's not," Dominic said grimly. "But proving that in court will take months. By then..."

He didn't need to finish. By then, Van Alston Industries would be a smoking crater and fifty thousand people would be looking for new jobs.

My phone rang. Richard Morrison, the silver-haired board member who'd been one of my few allies.

"Scarlett," his voice was strained. "We need to talk. Emergency board meeting in one hour."

"Richard, what's—"

"Just be there. And bring whatever evidence you have that this company is worth saving."

The line went dead.

Around me, the war room buzzed with the desperate energy of people trying to fight a battle on twelve different fronts. Sarah's team was fielding calls from panicked clients. David was trying to reassure investors who were threatening to pull their money. Jules was coordinating with legal teams who were scrambling to respond to the regulatory assault.

And in the middle of it all, I felt something I hadn't experienced since this whole nightmare began.

Doubt.

Not about the plan—I still believed we could destroy Blackstone. But about whether we could survive long enough to see it through.

"Mrs. Blackwood?" Margaret Williams appeared at my elbow, looking more frazzled than I'd ever seen her. "The board is ready for you."

The walk to the boardroom felt like a death march. Every employee I passed avoided making eye contact, their faces showing the kind of professional concern that meant they were already updating their resumes.

The boardroom itself was a study in barely controlled panic. Twelve faces that had shown grudging respect just days ago now looked at me with something closer to accusation.

"Scarlett," Maeve said, her voice carrying the satisfaction of someone whose worst predictions were coming true. "Thank you for joining us. I think we all agree that the situation has become... untenable."

"The stock price has dropped thirty percent in forty-eight hours," Catherine Mills added, consulting her tablet. "We've lost three major clients, and two more are threatening to terminate their contracts."

"The regulatory investigations alone could cost us millions in legal fees," said another board member whose name I couldn't remember. "Even if we're eventually cleared of wrongdoing."

Richard cleared his throat. "What we're trying to say, Scarlett, is that perhaps it's time to seriously consider Mr. Blackstone's offer."

"Before the company becomes completely worthless," Maeve added helpfully.

I looked around the table at twelve faces that had already given up. Twelve people who were ready to surrender everything Victoria had built rather than continue fighting a battle they were convinced we couldn't win.

"No," I said quietly.

"I'm sorry?" Maeve's eyebrows rose.

"I said no." I stood up, feeling something fierce and unbreakable rising in my chest. "We're not surrendering to Marcus Blackstone. We're not selling the company. And we're not giving up."

"Scarlett," Richard said gently, "I understand your attachment to your grandmother's legacy, but sometimes the responsible thing is to cut our losses before—"

"Before what? Before we fight back? Before we show the world what happens when someone tries to destroy a Van Alston company?"

"The attacks are too coordinated," Catherine said. "Too powerful. Blackstone has resources we can't match."

"Does he?" I pulled out my phone and called Sarah. "Sarah, put the Blackstone financial analysis on the main screen."

The large monitor at the end of the boardroom flickered to life, showing spreadsheets and financial projections that told the story I'd been piecing together for days.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I said, "meet the real Marcus Blackstone. Not the successful businessman he pretends to be, but a fraud whose entire empire is built on debt and stolen assets."

The numbers on the screen painted a picture of corporate cannibalism—companies acquired through leveraged buyouts, stripped of their assets, and left as empty shells to finance the next acquisition.

"He's not destroying companies because he's smart," I continued. "He's destroying them because he's desperate. His entire business model depends on a continuous stream of acquisitions to service the debt from previous acquisitions."

Several board members were leaning forward now, studying the financial data with growing interest.

"And three days ago," I said, "we became his largest individual shareholder."

The room went completely silent.

"We own twelve percent of Blackstone International," I continued. "Which means we have the right to call for a comprehensive financial audit of his company."

"My God," Richard breathed. "If these numbers are accurate..."

"Blackstone International will collapse the moment their real financial situation becomes public," I finished. "Which is why Marcus Blackstone is throwing everything he has at us right now. He knows that if we survive long enough to expose him, his twenty-year reign of terror is over."