Chapter 53

POV: Liam

​The air in the boardroom was dead. There was no other word for it. The high-altitude ventilation system hummed with a quiet, expensive efficiency, but it couldn't scrub the scent of desperation from the room. Isabella’s public confession was still looping on the screens behind us, her voice a rhythmic haunting that punctuated the silence.

​“The asset is no longer for sale.”

​I sat at the head of the table, my hands clasped so tightly my knuckles were white. Across from me, the remnants of the Sterling-Vane board sat like chess pieces on a board that had been knocked over. The federal agents were no longer outside the door; they were inside the room, standing in the corners with their arms crossed, silent observers to the dismantling of a legacy.

​"The markets haven't just crashed," Miller said, her voice sounding hollow, as if she were speaking from the bottom of a well. "They’ve evaporated. We’ve lost forty percent of our valuation in three hours. Trading has been halted by the NYSE, but the dark pools are hemorrhaging. We are technically insolvent by Monday if we don't secure a bridge loan."

​"There is no bridge loan for a company accused of human trafficking disguised as R&D," I said. My voice was flat. I didn't have the energy for anger anymore. "The banks aren't just running; they’re burning the maps behind them."

​"This is your doing, Sterling," Arthur hissed. He was sitting at the far end of the table, his lawyer whispering frantically in his ear. He wasn't in handcuffs—not yet—but the electronic monitor on his ankle was visible beneath his tailored trousers. "You let her go out there. You let her burn the house down with us inside it."

​"She didn't burn it down, Arthur," I said, finally looking at him. "She just turned on the lights. If you're blinded by the glare, that’s your problem."

​The heavy mahogany doors opened, and the room’s temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. Eleanor Vane walked in. She wasn't wearing the midnight blue of the gala. She was dressed in a sharp, slate-grey power suit, her hair pulled back so tightly it looked painful. She didn't look like a woman facing federal indictments. She looked like a woman who was about to chair a routine budget meeting.

​"Sit down, Arthur," she said, not even looking at her son.

​She took a seat at the center of the table, effectively splitting the room between the Sterling loyalists and the Vane wreckage. She looked at me, her eyes as cold and calculating as the day she’d first shown me the Medusa core.

​"We have a realignment problem," Eleanor said.

​Before I could respond, a hand went up. It was Director Halloway, the oldest member of the Sterling board, a man who had served my father for thirty years.

​"I’m out," Halloway said. His voice was trembling. "I’ve spent forty years building a reputation for ethical venture capital. I was told the Vane merger was about neural mapping for Alzheimer’s. I wasn't told I was investing in a girl’s bone marrow. My resignation is on the server. My lawyers will handle the rest."

​He didn't wait for a response. He stood up, grabbed his briefcase, and walked out without looking at me.

​"I’m joining him," Director Chen said, standing up immediately after. She was the youngest member, a tech prodigy we’d recruited to give the board a modern edge. "This isn't a company anymore. It’s a crime scene. I won't have my name attached to a 'forced recovery' protocol. My resignation is effective immediately."

​The silence that followed was heavy. Two directors gone. Two votes of no confidence that left the board unbalanced and vulnerable.

​"Well," Eleanor said, her voice cutting through the tension like a scalpel. "Now that the dead weight has removed itself, we can discuss the path forward. Liam, you are currently on administrative leave. Your standing as CEO is a liability we can no longer afford. The shareholders—the ones who haven't jumped off the roof—are demanding a change."

​"I’m not going anywhere, Eleanor," I said, leaning forward. "I still hold the proxy for the Sterling family shares. You can't remove me without a two-thirds majority, and with Halloway and Chen gone, you don't have the numbers."

​"I don't need to remove you, Liam," Eleanor said with a thin, sharp smile. "I just need to render you irrelevant. The board needs a steady hand. A neutral party who can negotiate with the DOJ and stabilize the 'biological integrity' of the asset."

​"She’s my wife," I said, the words feeling like a shield I was trying to hold up against a tank.

​"She’s a patent that is currently leaking data into the public domain," Eleanor countered. "And since you are a person of interest in the federal investigation, you cannot lead the negotiations. The board moves to appoint an Interim CEO. Someone who can bridge the gap between Vane Global and what’s left of Sterling."

​"Who?" Miller asked, her eyes darting between us. She was looking for a lifeboat, and she didn't care who was rowing it.

​Eleanor leaned back, her fingers tented in front of her. She looked at me, and I saw the trap. I saw it a second before she sprung it.

​"I propose we bring in someone with a deep understanding of the Vane family legacy, but no direct ties to the Medusa development team," Eleanor said. "Someone who can speak the language of the regulators and the shareholders."

​"Eleanor, no," I warned.

​"I move to appoint Sarah Jenkins as Interim CEO," Eleanor said.

​The room froze. Sarah. My Sarah. My head of operations, the woman who had been my right hand for five years, the one who had seen every move I’d made in the last six months.

​I looked at the door. Sarah walked in. She wasn't looking at me. She was dressed in a dark suit I hadn't seen before, her face a mask of professional detachment. She walked to the empty seat Halloway had vacated and sat down.

​"Sarah?" I whispered.

​"The board needs stability, Liam," she said, her voice steady, though she wouldn't meet my eyes. "The regulators need someone they can trust. I’ve already had preliminary meetings with the FTC. They’re willing to delay the seizure of Isabella if a compliant CEO is in place to oversee the 'stabilization' phase."

​"Compliant?" I stood up, the chair screeching against the floor. "You mean a puppet? You’re going to let Eleanor run the company through you?"

​"I’m going to save the company, Liam," Sarah said, finally looking at me. There was a flicker of something in her eyes—guilt, perhaps, or maybe just the same cold calculation everyone else in this building had perfected. "I’m going to make sure Isabella has the medical support she needs. You can't provide that from a federal prison cell."

​"I had to make a choice, Liam," Eleanor added, her voice smooth as silk. "I realized that the Sterling name was too damaged to lead. But Sarah... she’s the face of the future. The board will vote on her appointment now."

​"She doesn't have the shares," I said, my heart hammering against my ribs.

​"She has mine," Arthur said, a smug grin spreading across his face. "And she has the Vane Global block. With the vacancies on the board, that’s all we need."

​I looked around the table. Miller nodded. Two other directors I’d once trusted followed suit. It was a coup. A bloodless, corporate execution carried out in the middle of a Friday afternoon.

​"Motion carries," Eleanor said, standing up. She looked at me with a terrifying sense of finality. "Sarah is now the Interim CEO of the Vane-Sterling conglomerate. Liam, you are to vacate the premises immediately. Your security clearance is revoked. Your access to the private clinic is terminated."

​"You can't keep me from her," I said, my voice shaking.

​"Actually, as the legal guardian of the company’s proprietary assets, Sarah can," Eleanor said. "And she has already signed the order. Isabella is being moved to a more 'secure' location for her recovery."

​I looked at Sarah. "Where?"

​Sarah didn't answer. She looked at the papers in front of her, her face hardening. She was already playing the part. She was already the machine.

​"I’m sorry, Liam," she said, and for the first time, I realized she wasn't. She was tired of being the second-in-command to a man who was falling apart. She was taking the throne I had built for Isabella.

​The cliffhanger wasn't the loss of my company. It wasn't even the betrayal of my oldest ally. It was the realization that as security stepped forward to escort me from the room, I saw Eleanor lean in and whisper something to Sarah.

​"The recovery protocol," Eleanor whispered, loud enough for only me to hear. "Phase Two begins at midnight."

​I was shoved toward the door, my mind reeling. Phase Two. The "biological continuity" Eleanor had mentioned. They weren't just going to stabilize Isabella. They were going to start the reclamation process I had tried to stop. And I was the only one with the encryption key, but I was standing on the outside of the glass, watching the doors lock.

​I turned to the lead federal agent in the corner. "You have to stop them."

​The agent looked at Sarah, then back at me. "Mr. Sterling, as far as the DOJ is concerned, Ms. Jenkins is the only person here with a clean record. We follow her lead now."

​The doors closed. I was alone in the hallway, the sound of the world's most expensive machine starting up again behind me.