Chapter 10 - Friday’s Vote
By Friday morning, Ava was still in a wheelchair.
But she was no longer in a hospital gown.
Lena helped her into a navy suit.
Ethan waited outside the rehabilitation suite.
“You sure?”
“No.”
He blinked.
Ava adjusted the cuff of her jacket.
“I’m terrified. I’m going anyway.”
At Monroe Biologics, reporters crowded the front entrance. Word of Margaret’s arrest had leaked.
Ava entered through the underground garage.
The same garage from the video.
Her hands went cold the moment the elevator doors opened.
Lena noticed.
“We can turn around.”
“No.”
Ava touched one wheel and forced herself forward.
The boardroom went silent when she entered.
Seven directors stared.
At the far end sat Charles Denton, the lead independent director.
“Ava, we were told you were medically unable to attend.”
“By whom?”
He hesitated.
“Your family counsel.”
“Conrad Pike?”
“Yes.”
“He is under investigation for conspiring to drug me, forge my signature, and sabotage my car.”
Nobody moved.
Ava rolled to the head of the table.
“This meeting is not about my health. It’s about theft.”
She distributed certified copies of the police warrant, the forged documents, and Victor Hale’s statement.
One director stood up.
“If this is true, we need to adjourn.”
“It is true,” Ava said. “But we’re not adjourning yet.”
She turned to the large screen.
“Because someone in this room has been feeding Pike board materials.”
Faces changed.
Ava had discovered it the night before.
The emergency resolutions contained a formatting error unique to the private drafts generated by one director’s secure account.
Charles Denton’s.
His mouth tightened.
“That proves nothing.”
Ava clicked again.
A payment record appeared.
Three transfers.
Each from a Pike-controlled company.
Each to a consulting firm owned by Denton’s wife.
Ethan whispered, “My God.”
Denton stood.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
Security entered.
Denton backed away from the table.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
For one strange second, he smiled.
He answered on speaker.
A man’s voice filled the room.
Conrad Pike.
“Ava,” he said calmly. “You always did inherit your father’s flair for drama.”
Brooks, listening remotely, signaled technicians to trace the call.
Ava kept him talking.
“Where’s Martin?”
Pike laughed.
“Closer than you think.”
Ava looked around the room.
The side door opened.
Martin Monroe stepped inside.
His face was bruised.
His hands were zip-tied.
And behind him stood a man holding a gun.
May you like
Pike’s voice came through the speaker.
“Now we negotiate.”
