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Chapter 12 - The Vote

Graham tapped a pen on the table, a habit Julian remembered from childhood. Back then Graham had been the entertaining older cousin who could make any adult laugh. Julian had wanted to be like him.

"Remember when you taught me to shuffle cards?" Julian asked suddenly.

Graham frowned. "What?"

"You told me the trick was making people watch the hand you weren't using."

The pen stopped tapping.

Julian entered the Whitmore headquarters in a wheelchair.

He did it on purpose. Not because Graham had won, but because an independent doctor had told him to stop pushing his exhausted legs past safety. A physical therapist stood by to help him transfer if needed.

The lobby fell silent.

"Good morning," Julian said to the receptionist. "I'm here for my company."

Upstairs, Graham smiled behind the boardroom table. His black tuxedo was gone, replaced by a charcoal suit. His manner remained smooth.

"Julian. This must be overwhelming."

"Not as overwhelming as finding out you've been selling my employees' retirement."

Three directors looked up. Graham laughed once.

"This is precisely why we sought protection. Your judgment is compromised."

Julian rolled forward and placed a letter from his independent attorney before the board chair. "The court has not ruled on your petition. I remain a director and major voting shareholder."

Maya stood behind him, no longer wearing the hotel's black uniform. She had borrowed a navy jacket from her sister-in-law. It fit poorly in the shoulders. She didn't care.

Arjun presented documents showing unexplained transfers, and Brooks's team served preservation notices through the company's counsel. The room erupted.

"Those could be fabricated," Graham said.

"Then preserving the originals should help you," Maya replied.

The board chair suspended the sale vote pending legal review. Julian almost smiled.

Then a director near the window raised his hand.

"Before we adjourn, there's a separate motion."

He moved to terminate Julian's voting rights under an obscure trust provision written after his mother's death.

May you like

Graham had prepared a second trap.

And this one carried Eleanor Whitmore's signature.

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