Chapter 35

POV: Liam

The air in the boardroom was dry, filtered through a system that was currently fighting a losing battle against a resonance frequency I couldn't stop. Every few seconds, a low-frequency hum rattled the pens on the mahogany table. It was a reminder that my time was measured in breaths, not days.

"Motion 402-B," the lead counsel announced. His voice was a rasping, bureaucratic drone. "To reclassify Isabella Vane-Sterling as a 'Contaminated Asset' and execute the immediate seizure of her voting proxies under the National Security Indemnity clause."

I sat at the head of the table. To my left, Sarah was vibrating with nervous energy. To my right, Miller was a statue of icy pragmatism. Behind me, in the gallery, the air felt ten degrees colder. I didn't have to turn around to know who was there. The scent of bitter almonds and expensive soap was a signature I had memorized in the labs years ago.

Eleanor Vane was back. She hadn't said a word. She didn't need to. Her presence was the final weight on the scale.

"The math is simple, Liam," Sarah whispered, leaning in. "If we reclassify her, the stock stabilizes. The DOJ backs off. We frame the last forty-eight hours as a containment exercise. Sterling Tech survives."

"And Isabella?" I asked. My voice felt like it was traveling through a mile of gravel.

"She goes into a custodial program. We can negotiate the terms later. In a year, when this blows over, we can find a way to reinstate her."

"You're asking me to sign her death warrant as a person," I said.

"I'm asking you to act as a CEO," Miller interjected. "The board has seventy-one percent. You are the final three. If you vote 'No,' the board collapses, the company goes into receivership, and Arthur takes everything. If you vote 'Yes,' you keep control. You can protect her better from the chair than from a prison cell."

I looked at the digital ballot on my tablet.

YES / NO / ABSTAIN

The room was a pressure cooker. Outside, the media was a circling pack of wolves. The federal agents were standing in the lobby, waiting for the result. If the motion passed, they would have the legal authority to hunt Isabella with every sensor in the city. If it failed, I would be removed by noon.

I thought of the docks. I thought of the ghost-ship I was supposed to meet. I thought of the look in Isabella’s eyes when I’d told the agents to run the scan in the lab.

I had spent my entire life playing the odds. I had been taught that there was always a third way—a move that the opponent didn't see coming because it defied the binary logic of the game.

"The floor is open for the Chair’s vote," the counsel said.

The board members leaned forward. Sarah held her breath. In the back, I heard the faint rustle of Eleanor’s veil. They expected me to fight. They expected me to roar, to plead, to offer them a better deal.

Instead, I felt a strange, cold calm.

"The fiduciary duty of this board is to the shareholders," I said. I kept my voice low, steady. "But the legal standing of the subject is currently under a 'secondary mechanism' trigger. A vote today is premature."

"Liam, we don't have time for a delay," Sarah hissed.

"I’m not asking for a delay," I said.

I looked at the camera in the corner of the room. I knew she was watching. I could feel her presence through the network, a digital pulse in the machine. I wasn't just talking to the board. I was talking to the woman on the ship.

"I recognize the board's authority to protect the firm," I continued. "But I also recognize the validity of the marriage contract as a superior legal instrument. To vote 'Yes' would be a breach of my personal indemnity. To vote 'No' would be a breach of my duty to the firm."

I tapped the screen.

"I abstain," I said.

The silence that followed was more violent than a scream. Sarah’s jaw dropped. Miller narrowed her eyes, her mind already racing to calculate the fallout.

"An abstention?" the counsel stammered. "Mr. Sterling, that leaves the vote at seventy-one percent. The motion fails to reach the supermajority required for a 'Contaminated Asset' reclassification."

"Exactly," I said.

"But it also triggers the 'Incapacity' clause for the Chair," Miller said, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Liam, you just neutralized your own power. By abstaining on a matter of national security, you’ve automatically triggered an emergency transition. You're no longer the CEO of Sterling Tech."

"I know," I said.

I stood up. I didn't look at Sarah. I didn't look at the board. I turned and looked directly at the woman in the veil.

Eleanor didn't move. But I saw her hands tighten on her clutch. She hadn't expected me to walk away. She had expected me to cling to the throne until it burned my hands off.

"The meeting is adjourned," I said to the room.

I walked toward the door. My heart was thudding a slow, heavy rhythm. I had fourteen days to find her, and I had just stripped myself of the only armor I had. But as I reached the elevator, my phone chimed.

It was a notification from the SEC.

EMERGENCY FILING: VANE GLOBAL DEBT CALL.

I frowned. Isabella. She hadn't waited for the vote. She had pulled the trigger on Arthur the second I abstained.

But then, a second notification flashed. This one was red.

ALERT: STERLING TOWER RESONANCE REACHING CRITICAL M-STAGE. EVACUATION TIME: 45 MINUTES.

The elevator doors opened. Agent Vance was standing there, but he wasn't looking at me. He was looking at his tablet, his face white.

"Mr. Sterling," he said. "The abstention… it didn't just freeze the board."

"What did it do?"

"It triggered a 'Dead-Man's Switch' in the Medusa protocols," Vance said. "Because the board didn't reach a supermajority to secure the asset, the software has categorized the entire facility as 'Compromised.' It’s not just a countdown anymore."

He looked at the doors behind me, where the board members were starting to filter out in a panic.

"The building is locking down," Vance said. "No one gets out. And the frequency… it’s just shifted to the human auditory range."

A sound began to fill the hallway—a low, mournful howl that felt like it was coming from the walls themselves. It wasn't a machine. It was a voice.

Isabella’s voice. Recorded. Looped.

“The observer has left the building.”

The lights flickered and died. In the darkness, the red emergency strobes began to pulse. I felt a hand on my arm. It was Eleanor. She had moved with impossible speed.

"You should have voted 'Yes', Liam," she whispered into my ear. "Now, we all stay for the end of the show."

The building shuddered. A crack appeared in the marble floor at my feet.

I looked at the timer on my watch.

39:59.

We weren't going to the docks. We were going down with the ship.