Chapter 6 - DAWN OF A NEW ERAAt eight forty-five the next morning, sunlight poured across the fiftieth-floor boardroom.
Clara sat at the head of the table.
Julian's chair was empty.
Eleanor's chair was empty.
No one suggested saving them.
Twelve senior executives waited in tense silence.
Many had spent years looking over their shoulders before speaking.
Clara noticed it immediately.
Fear had become part of the company's culture.
She intended to remove it.
"First priority," she said. "Employee pension funds."
The chief financial officer cleared his throat.
"We can restore approximately eighty-four percent immediately."
"Not enough."
"We would need liquidity from—"
"My dividend reserve."
Several executives stared at her.
Clara continued.
"Use it."
"That's nearly nine million dollars personally owed to you."
"It was never supposed to come from their retirement accounts in the first place."
Silence.
Then the CFO nodded.
"Yes, Madam Chairwoman."
"Second. No executive bonuses until every pension dollar is restored."
Another pause.
This one felt different.
Not fear.
Respect.
The doors opened.
Marcus entered carrying a tablet.
"You'll want to see this."
The headline covered the screen.
VANCE EMPIRE UNDER FEDERAL INVESTIGATION AFTER GALA MELTDOWN.
Another appeared underneath.
HEIRESS CLARA WHITMORE EMERGES AS MAJORITY VOTING POWER.
Clara hated the word heiress.
It made everything sound inherited.
Nothing about surviving Julian had been inherited.
"There's more," Marcus said.
He lowered his voice.
"Federal marshals are preparing arrest warrants."
"For whom?"
"Julian. Eleanor."
"And Caldwell?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Missing."
Clara's eyes hardened.
A missing board member with access to internal accounts could destroy evidence, move money, or manufacture a story before investigators reached him.
She looked around the table.
"Lock every system credential Caldwell ever touched."
The IT director nodded.
"Immediately."
"And find out where he was last night."
Marcus leaned closer.
"This could become ugly."
Clara looked at the empty chairs.
"It already was."
Then every phone in the room buzzed simultaneously.
Breaking news.
May you like
Federal marshals had arrived at the Vance estate.
The age of untouchable wealth had just ended.
