CHAPTER 107: What Diana Sent

POV: Avalon Pierce

The file arrived at 4:47 PM.

Forty-three pages.

He was sitting at his desk, going through the files, one by one, completely absorbed in them. Selene was standing in the doorway, asking him questions, but he just gave her brief, one-word answers, because he needed to focus on what he was reading, the files were that important, and her questions could wait.

By the time he got to page twelve, it finally clicked - he had a clear understanding of what Henderson Capital was all about.

By the time he got to page twenty-seven, he knew exactly what Richard Henderson was getting at.

It wasn't until he reached page forty-three that the truth finally sank in: Monday's meeting had never actually been about the foundation's future at all.

It had been about acquiring it.

“Talk to me,” Selene said.

She had given up asking questions, and now she just waited. Leaning against the doorframe, her arms were crossed, and her face had that look it got when she decided it was better to be patient than to push for answers.

He turned the laptop toward her.

She came and read.

He watched her face.

Page one she was composed. Professional. The face she wore when receiving information she hadn’t expected.

Page seven something shifted.

On page twelve, she pulled out the chair and then sat down.

She didn't say a word on page twenty, but her jaw clenched up in that special way that meant something was bothering her, and it wasn't going away anytime soon.

She read all forty-three pages.

When she finished she sat back.

Looked at the ceiling briefly.

Then at him.

"She said he doesn't want to give money to the foundation."

“No.”

“He wants to absorb it.”

“Yes.”

She gazed at the screen, her eyes fixed on the changes made to Henderson Capital's philanthropic portfolio. It had been rebranded and restructured, but not by them - under his control, not theirs. "Everything we've worked for," she said, her voice filled with concern. "Our governance model, the relationships we've built with the community, even our name - all of it is being altered." She paused, collecting her thoughts before continuing. "And to top it all off, he wants to put his own name on it, erasing everything that made our organisation unique.”

Avalon mentioned that he also wants his daughter on the board, and she is to hold the position of executive director.

Selene looked at the document.

“The Lorraine Pierce Infrastructure Fund,” she said quietly.

"It's gone," he said, his voice low and matter-of-fact. "The company has been completely absorbed into the Henderson Philanthropic Trust."

She was very still.

“Nene’s name,” she said.

“Gone.”

The study was very quiet.

He watched her sit with it.

The specific way she sat with things that cost her. Not dramatically. Just going very still while something moved through her.

"Eventually, she spoke up, her voice laced with skepticism, 'How did he really think this plan was going to work out?' She paused, shaking her head, 'I mean, we'd just agree to it, no questions asked.'"

He had no intention of being upfront about it. Diana stumbled upon the document that outlined the plan for acquiring the company. It seemed he was going to offer a substantial amount of funding at first, just to get us hooked on the money from Henderson. Then, over the course of eighteen months, he would slowly start to change the terms of the deal, until eventually, the foundation would be under his control.

“Slowly,” she said. “ So we wouldn’t notice until it was too late.”

“Yes.”

“The way Hale went after the company.”

“The same playbook,” he said. “ Different target.”

She looked at the window.

At the Saturday evening city.

Everything she had worked for was mirrored back at her in the dark glass.

"Why Diana?" she wondered, "and what made her send this?"

She had been holding onto it for half a year, she claimed.

“Why now?”

“She saw you at the podium last night.” He paused. “ She said she decided it was her place.”

Selene said nothing for a long moment.

"She was in the room last night," she told me.

“Apparently.”

“She came to the gala.”

“Yes.”

Selene absorbed that.

“That’s—” She stopped.

“What?”

"It's all so complicated," she said, shaking her head. "Anything to do with Diana is always complicated, you know?"

“Yes.”

She stood up.

Walking to the window, he let her because he knew better than to fill this particular silence.

Outside the city was doing its Saturday evening thing. Completely indifferent as always. No awareness that a woman was standing at a window watching her life’s work being threatened in a forty three page document.

“Monday,” she said.

“Yes.”

“We go to the meeting.”

He looked at her.

She spoke up, saying "We'll go." Then we would sit down across from Richard Henderson, listening to what he had to say. Let's just sit back and pretend we're not onto him."

“Why?”

"If he finds out we're onto him, he'll switch tactics and we'll be at a disadvantage. Her eyes were piercingly clear as she spoke. We should let him think he's in control, let him make the first move. Get his proposal in black and white, and then we can take it apart, using his own words against him, bit by bit."

He looked at her.

The woman had been through a lot, from depositions to board battles, and even federal courtrooms, but she had come out stronger on the other side, building something truly real and meaningful. She had faced many challenges and overcome them, and in the end, she had created something that was genuinely hers.

“You’ve done this before,” he said.

“I’ve been trained by the best,” she said.

“Who.”

She looked at him.

“You,” she said. “ And Nene.”

He almost smiled.

Almost.

"He added, there's something else in the file."

“Tell me.”

"Henderson Capital's current board of directors," he said, turning the laptop back to face him. He scrolled through the page until he found what he was looking for. "The third name from the top," he added, his eyes scanning the list of names.

She came and looked.

He watched her face when she found it.

Watched the color leave it.

“That’s not possible,” she said.

“It’s there.”

“That’s—” She looked at him. “ That’s James.”

He said nothing.

Because there was nothing to say.

James Okonkwo.

Six weeks ago, someone walked into their office.

Who had talked about structural failure and load paths and principles worth protecting? 

Who had asked more questions in one day than most board members asked in a year.

Who had been at every meeting. Every conversation and every decision.

Henderson Capital’s board.

His name.

Right there.

Third from the top.