Chapter 5 - THE BOARD MEETING CLAIRE WASN'T INVITED TO
At nine the next morning, Marco Moretti tried to remove my husband from his own company.
At nine twelve, I walked into the boardroom carrying the document that could stop him.
Nobody had invited me.
That improved my mood.
Twelve directors sat around a glass table overlooking downtown Chicago.
Marco was standing.
Vincent was seated near the far end.
Richard sat beside him.
Sophia occupied a chair near legal counsel.
When I entered with Nathan, every head turned.
Marco recovered first.
“Claire.”
“Marco.”
“This is a closed board meeting.”
“I know.”
Nathan placed a folder on the table.
“Mrs. Moretti holds conditional founder rights affecting today's proposed vote.”
That got everyone's attention.
Vincent looked at me.
I didn't look back.
Marco smiled.
“Claire doesn't own shares.”
“Not yet,” Nathan said.
He explained the founder agreement.
Fraud.
Improper succession.
Attempted encumbrance against Bennett property.
All three trigger conditions had potentially occurred.
The company attorney began reading.
Marco's smile disappeared.
“This document is thirty-one years old.”
“So is your uncle,” I said. “He still seems legally valid.”
Richard coughed.
Vincent looked down, hiding something dangerously close to a smile.
Marco stared at me.
“You embarrassed this company in front of five hundred employees.”
“Yes.”
“Your marriage has become a public spectacle.”
“Yes.”
“You seriously expect this board to let you influence governance?”
I leaned forward.
“My marriage is a disaster because my husband forgot that silence can be betrayal even when you're technically faithful.”
Vincent went still.
“But that has nothing to do with whether you stole company money.”
Marco's eyes changed.
There.
I continued.
“You're counting on everyone being distracted by sex because fraud is less interesting.”
Nobody spoke.
Sophia slid documents across the table.
The shell companies.
The stolen funds.
The share purchases.
Marco looked around.
“This is fabricated.”
“Then you'll have no objection to an independent forensic audit,” I said.
He did.
Immediately.
Too immediately.
“Company records include sensitive operations.”
Nathan smiled.
“That's what auditors are for.”
Marco turned toward Richard.
“You're allowing your daughter-in-law to destabilize us because she's angry at Vincent.”
Richard's voice was calm.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“I'm allowing Thomas Bennett's daughter to exercise the rights her father negotiated.”
For the first time, I understood why Richard had insisted my father keep that option.
Maybe guilt.
Maybe foresight.
Maybe both.
The vote to remove Vincent was postponed.
The independent audit passed eight to four.
Marco voted no.
So did three directors connected to him.
Before anyone could leave, security entered.
Paul Mercer.
He walked directly toward Vincent.
“Sir, we have an emergency.”
Vincent stood.
“What?”
Mercer handed him a phone.
On-screen was security footage from my mansion.
A man in a baseball cap had entered through a service door thirty minutes earlier.
My stomach dropped.
“He's inside now?”
“No.”
Mercer looked at me.
“He left six minutes ago.”
“What did he take?”
“We don't know.”
I called the house manager.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Vincent was already moving.
I grabbed his arm.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“I am going home.”
“Not alone.”
“This is my house.”
“And someone just broke into it.”
I stared at him.
For three years, Vincent had decided that danger gave him permission to exclude me.
Not again.
“If you're coming, you come with me. Not in front of me.”
Something shifted in his face.
He nodded.
“All right.”
That was new.
At the mansion, nothing obvious was missing.
The steel box remained.
My father's records remained.
Then I saw the empty space on the desk.
One photograph was gone.
The picture of Gabriel, Marco, and Paul Mercer.
I turned.
Mercer stood in the doorway behind us.
Too still.
Vincent noticed too.
“What?”
Mercer's eyes moved toward the empty desk.
“How did you know there was a photograph?”
Silence.
I hadn't told him.
Neither had Vincent.
Mercer reached slowly toward his jacket.
Vincent stepped between us.
But the security chief only removed his phone.
Then he smiled.
“Marco said you'd find the wall eventually.”
Vincent's face became cold.
“You work for him.”
Mercer looked almost offended.
“No.”
He looked at Richard.
“I worked for Gabriel.”
And before anyone could stop him, he sent one message.
May you like
Three words.
SHE FOUND EVERYTHING.
