Chapter 4 - The Boardroom CoupFour weeks after the assault, I walked into the top-floor boardroom of the Darcy Building in downtown San Francisco.
My right arm was still in a sleek black brace, but I was wearing a tailored ivory suit, my dark hair styled in a sharp, elegant bob, holding a leather executive portfolio in my left hand. Walking behind me were Ana Brennan and a team of four forensic accountants.
Sitting around the long mahogany table were six senior board members of Darcy Real Estate Enterprises—men in their fifties and sixties who had been Mark’s loyal cronies for a decade. They had turned a blind eye to his reckless spending, convinced that he would eventually inherit his mother’s empire.
When I sat down at the head of the table—the seat where my grandmother had sat for forty years—the room fell into an uneasy, tense silence.
"Alana," spoke up Arthur Vance, a senior board member who had worked under Mark. "We are all deeply saddened by the... unfortunate family incident at the Fremont house. But as you know, the company cannot operate without a designated Managing Director. Mark is currently indisposed, and the stock value has dropped eight percent this month due to the media coverage."
"Indisposed?" I raised an eyebrow, looking Arthur dead in the eye. "Arthur, my father is currently sitting in a federal holding facility facing twenty years for extortion, assault with a deadly weapon, and bank fraud. He isn't 'indisposed.' He is going to prison."
Arthur flushed, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Be that as it may, the board feels that an experienced real estate executive should step in to manage the assets until the legal dust settles. You are only twenty-four, Alana. You don't have the corporate experience to run a company of this magnitude."
I didn't argue. Instead, I gestured to Ana Brennan.
Ana opened her portfolio and handed every board member a thick, bound dossier.
"Gentlemen," Ana said, her voice cutting through the room like a razor. "This is the preliminary forensic audit conducted by the FBI and Brennan Legal Associates. It details thirteen separate instances over the last six years where board members sitting in this room accepted unrecorded cash bonuses funded directly by Mark Darcy’s illegal offshore loans."
The board members froze. Two of them turned visibly pale, while Arthur’s hand trembled as he opened the folder.
"Furthermore," I said, leaning forward, resting my hands on the table. "According to my grandmother’s final, revised corporate bylaws—filed six months before her death—ownership of fifty-one percent of all voting shares transferred instantly to me upon her passing, contingent upon my passing a background and competency evaluation conducted by an independent trustee."
I slid the certified trustee report onto the table.
"I passed that evaluation yesterday," I continued calmly. "Which means I don't need your approval to take control of this company, Arthur. I own it."
I stood up, looking at the six men who had allowed my grandmother’s legacy to be dragged through the mud.
"Arthur Vance, Harold Higgins, and Richard Miller," I called out their names flatly. "You are hereby terminated from the board of directors for gross breach of fiduciary duty. Security is waiting outside to escort you from the building. Your personal files have already been handed over to the Securities and Exchange Commission."
The three men sat in stunned silence as two uniformed security guards opened the boardroom doors.
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"You can't do this, Alana!" Arthur sputtered, standing up, his face red with rage. "Your father built half of this firm!"
"My grandmother built all of this firm, Arthur," I replied without missing a beat. "My father was just a parasite who thought he could beat his way to the top. Meeting adjourned."
