Chapter 4 - The Breakfast of the Vultures
At eight-fifteen that morning, the sun broke through the Boston clouds, casting pale golden light across the dining room of the Beacon Hill brownstone.
Arthur sat at the head of the table wearing an expensive bespoke three-piece suit, his gold pocket watch ticking proudly against his vest.
Beatrice was sipping a fresh cup of Earl Grey tea, dressed in a designer lavender dress, checking her social calendar on her tablet.
Cassandra was admiring her diamond rings, applying a fresh coat of red lipstick before the executive meeting.
“Make sure the front door remains locked from the outside, Beatrice,” Arthur instructed in a low, conspiratorial whisper.
“Once Ethan signs the master proxy documents at nine o'clock, we will have private security move Elena and the child into the transport van for the Maine clinic.”
“I already spoke to the director of the private sanitarium in Bangor,” Beatrice chuckled softly, taking a delicate bite of a buttered croissant.
“They have a specialized long-term psychiatric wing where Elena will be kept under permanent medical conservatorship.”
“We will tell Ethan that Elena suffered a severe postpartum psychosis, took twenty thousand dollars from the safe, and abandoned the family.”
Cassandra laughed melodic, cruel laughter as she adjusted her silk blouse.
“I already drafted the public relations press release for the Boston Globe, Father.”
“’Tragic Domestic Crisis Strikes Thorne Technologies as Founder’s Wife Disappears After Mental Breakdown.’”
“The board of directors will have no choice but to rally behind you as the stabilizing chairman, Father, and I will take over Elena’s corporate charity foundation!”
The heavy front doors of the brownstone opened with a smooth, quiet click, and Ethan strode into the foyer holding a thick leather briefcase.
He wore a tailored charcoal suit, an immaculate silk tie, and an expression of serene, unshakeable confidence.
The three conspirators immediately composed their faces, standing up with warm, enthusiastic smiles to welcome the golden goose.
“Good morning, Ethan!” Arthur beamed, stepping forward with his arms outstretched.
“Did you sleep well after your long journey?”
“I slept with absolute clarity, Father,” Ethan replied, setting the briefcase onto the dining table.
“And I brought the finalized master power of attorney documents for our family to sign.”
Arthur’s eyes glittered with pure, unvarnished greed as his hands reached out to touch the leather folder.
“You are making the wisest decision of your life, son,” Arthur said, his voice trembling with suppressed excitement.
“With our family united under a single corporate governance, no competitor in this city will ever be able to challenge our supremacy.”
Ethan opened the briefcase, pulling out the three duplicate copies of the modified eighty-page contract bound in crimson ribbon.
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“Let us gather the executive board and the legal counsel at the headquarters at eleven o'clock, Father,” Ethan suggested with a calm, pleasant smile.
“A milestone of this magnitude deserves to be signed in front of the entire corporate world.”
