Chapter 14 - The Vote That Could End an Empire
The Vance Global board meeting began at 8:00 a.m.
I joined by secure video from Camille's office.
My doctors did not want me sitting upright for hours.
Camille did not want me anywhere near the tower.
I agreed with both for once.
Twelve directors appeared on screen.
Three seats were empty after the resignations.
Flynn sat at the far end of the boardroom table.
He looked exhausted.
Charles Bennett, the lead independent director, opened the meeting.
"We are here under extraordinary circumstances."
No one disagreed.
Vance Global was under federal investigation.
The Gray Book had exposed years of surveillance, political pressure, and questionable deal tactics.
The CEO faced criminal charges for stabbing his wife.
A former chief of staff had admitted participating in a conspiracy to kill that wife.
The CEO's former lover was a fugitive accused of helping design the plan.
Extraordinary was almost too gentle a word.
Bennett continued.
"The first resolution concerns the immediate removal of Flynn Vance as chief executive officer."
Flynn did not speak.
His attorney sat behind him.
The general counsel explained the voting rules.
My 6.8 percent block was now recognized.
Because of the trust conversion and several abstentions, my vote could decide the result.
I looked at Flynn's face on the screen.
Three years earlier, I had left my career partly because he said one Vance in high finance was enough for a marriage.
He had smiled when he said it.
I had smiled too.
I told myself I was choosing family.
In reality, I had slowly handed away pieces of myself until the world knew me mostly as Flynn Vance's wife.
Now the company he controlled needed my vote.
The irony would have been satisfying if the price had not been so high.
Bennett called each director.
Remove.
Remove.
Retain pending investigation.
Remove.
Abstain.
Retain.
The split tightened.
Then my name was called.
"Mabel Vance."
Every face on the screen seemed to turn toward me.
Flynn finally looked up.
I could have punished him with one word.
That was not why I chose it.
"Remove."
Flynn closed his eyes.
The resolution passed.
Effective immediately, Flynn Vance was no longer CEO of Vance Global.
The company his grandfather founded and his father expanded no longer belonged to his daily control.
He had lost the title before losing the trial.
Bennett moved to the next resolution.
Appointment of an interim CEO.
I expected an internal executive.
Instead, a director nominated me.
I actually laughed.
"No."
The boardroom went silent.
Bennett looked startled.
"Mrs. Vance, perhaps we should discuss."
"There is nothing to discuss."
"Your financial background and shareholder position make you uniquely situated."
"My abdomen was stitched together less than two weeks ago."
No one spoke.
"I am also divorcing your former CEO and cooperating in a federal investigation involving this company."
I leaned closer to the camera.
"If that sounds like your ideal interim leadership profile, Vance Global has larger problems than I thought."
Nathan, sitting off camera, choked back a laugh.
The nomination died quickly.
A veteran operations executive, Priya Desai, was appointed instead.
I liked her immediately because her first statement contained no mention of legacy.
Only compliance, employees, creditors, and customers.
The meeting ended shortly after noon.
Flynn remained alone at the table as everyone disconnected.
For a second, our video windows stayed open.
He looked at me.
I looked back.
"You voted correctly," he said.
I was surprised.
"I did not do it for you."
"I know."
"Then why say anything?"
He looked around the empty boardroom.
"Because I spent my whole life thinking losing this company would be the worst thing that could happen to me."
His eyes returned to mine.
"I was wrong."
I ended the connection.
I could not afford to let his grief become my responsibility.
An hour later, Detective Alvarez arrived with news.
Evan Rusk had been spotted at a motel in Rockford.
Officers moved in.
The room was empty.
But they recovered a laptop, a rifle case with no rifle, maps of several Vance properties, and printed photographs of my new apartment building.
Nathan went pale.
"He knows where she lives."
"Yes," Alvarez said.
"Move her."
"Already arranged."
I was transferred that afternoon to a safe residence controlled by law enforcement.
Camille hated it.
I hated it more.
The location was small, anonymous, and watched around the clock.
My world shrank again.
At 6:30 p.m., Selina sent another message.
You took his company.
I stared at the words.
Then another appeared.
He will hate you when the guilt wears off.
I did not respond.
A third message arrived.
Ask him who chose you for the Halberd dinner in Geneva.
My pulse changed.
I showed Camille.
"What does that mean?"
"I do not know."
I called Thomas Bell, my former managing partner.
He had already been interviewed by federal investigators and sounded twenty years older than I remembered.
"Thomas, who assigned me to Halberd?"
There was a pause.
"What?"
"Six years ago."
"You were on the financing team."
"I joined late."
"Mabel, this is not a good time."
"Who asked for me?"
He exhaled.
"Flynn Vance."
I felt cold.
"Why?"
"He said you were the strongest associate on the industrial desk."
"Did you believe that?"
"You were."
"That is not what I asked."
Thomas went quiet.
"He had met you before."
I frowned.
"No, he had not."
"He said he had."
My mind moved backward.
Flynn and I officially met at a closing dinner in Geneva.
He had joked that he hated bankers.
I had told him private equity professionals hated being called bankers.
He laughed.
We spoke for two hours.
Our relationship began three months later.
"Where did he say he met me?"
"A conference in New York."
I remembered the conference.
I had spoken on a junior investor panel.
Hundreds of people attended.
I never met Flynn.
But he might have seen me.
"Why does this matter?" Thomas asked.
"I do not know yet."
I ended the call.
Selina sent another message before I could decide what to do.
He did not marry you by accident.
Camille read it twice.
"She is trying to destabilize you."
"Maybe."
"Do not let a fugitive rewrite your entire history with fragments."
I knew she was right.
But the question stayed.
Had Flynn known who I was before our supposed first meeting?
Had he known about my investment position?
Had our marriage begun with business calculation before becoming personal betrayal?
I asked Camille to request Flynn's testimony on the issue through counsel.
His answer came two hours later.
Yes, he had seen me at the New York conference.
Yes, he had asked Thomas Bell to place me on the Halberd team.
No, he had not known I personally held preferred shares because those were granted later.
Why had he asked for me?
His written answer contained one sentence.
Because I wanted an excuse to meet her.
I stared at it.
Nathan read over my shoulder.
"That is either romantic or deeply creepy."
"Both can be true."
The answer did not absolve Flynn.
It also did not support Selina's implication that the marriage had been a financial plot.
Another attempt to poison reality had failed.
That was when I began to understand Selina's greatest weapon.
Not lies.
Doubt.
She placed one fact beside one accusation and let other people destroy themselves filling the space between them.
She had done it to Flynn.
She was trying to do it to me.
I would not help her.
At 10:08 p.m., Alvarez received an urgent call.
Rusk's laptop had been partially decrypted.
The maps were not the most important files.
A folder labeled M.V. contained schedules.
My medical appointments.
Court dates.
Hospital discharge estimate.
And a proposed route from my former hospital to the secure apartment.
Someone had planned to intercept the vehicle on discharge day.
I had left through a different exit because hospital security changed the plan at the last minute.
"What was he going to do?"
Nathan asked.
Alvarez looked at me.
"There is a document describing a staged traffic collision."
My mouth went dry.
Selina had not stopped trying after the stabbing.
She had planned a second attempt before I even left the hospital.
"Who wrote it?"
"The metadata points to Rusk."
"Did Selina approve it?"
"There is a message attached."
Alvarez read it.
Make sure Mabel does not reach the apartment.
The sender account belonged to Selina.
Then Alvarez turned the laptop screen.
A second message had been sent three hours later.
Abort.
Too many officers.
Use the building instead.
My heart stopped for half a beat.
"The building?"
Alvarez nodded.
"We think the texts you received about the cream sweater were not just intimidation."
She looked toward the window.
May you like
"Rusk may have been inside your apartment building."
