Chapter 13
1673 Words
Liam's POV
The green line on the Bloomberg terminal is vertical. It doesn’t look like a trend. It looks like a needle.
Sterling Tech (STK) up 12% in the first hour. Then 18%. The volume is high—institutional buyers, not retail. They saw the interview. They didn’t see a victim; they saw a Vane taking a side. In this market, certainty is more valuable than ethics.
I watched the numbers flicker. My reflection was ghosted over the screen. Dark circles under my eyes. The bandage on my shoulder felt like a hot iron.
"The shorts are being squeezed," Felix said. He was pacing the length of my office. "Henderson is losing his shirt. He bet on your removal. Now he’s scrambling to buy back in before the price hits the ceiling."
"It’s not a ceiling," I said. "It’s a bluff."
"A profitable one. Isabella gave you the win, Liam. She validated your position. She told the world the merger was logical. That means the tech is real."
"She told the world what she needed to tell them to stay alive."
I looked at the piece of charred wood on my desk. The frequency was etched there. I hadn’t called it yet.
Every time I looked at it, I felt a tightening in my chest. Not pain. Just a—
The thought stopped. I shifted my weight. The leverage had changed. I was no longer the defensive player.
"What about the garden?" Felix asked. "The police report from the estate."
"Julian is gone," I said.
I didn't tell him about the flare gun. I didn't tell him about the way Julian looked when he realized the money wasn't in the account. He had looked at me with a strange kind of pity.
You think you’re the player, kid, Julian had whispered before the sirens got close. But you’re just the board.
"The board meeting is in four hours," Felix said. "Henderson can't win the vote of no confidence now. Not with the stock at this price. The other shareholders won't touch him."
"He’ll try another angle. He’s a cornered animal."
"Let him try. We have the momentum."
I stood up. My head throbbed. I needed more than caffeine. I needed to know where she was.
The Vane Tower was under lockdown. My security team said the lobby was a fortress. Arthur was inside. Isabella was inside.
And according to the interview, a ghost was running the cameras.
The conference room felt different this time. The air was thinner.
Henderson was already there. He wasn't sitting. He was standing by the window, staring at the city. He looked smaller than he had two days ago.
"The price is forty-two dollars," Henderson said without turning around.
"Forty-four," I corrected. "It jumped again when the London exchange opened."
"It’s a bubble, Liam. Built on a girl’s lies."
"It’s built on confidence. You’re the one who said the market hates a scandal. Well, the scandal just became a success story."
Henderson turned. His face was a map of broken capillaries. "You think you’ve won. You think because you saved the girl, you get to keep the crown."
"I don't care about the crown. I care about the company."
"Then you should have stayed away from the Vanes."
He threw a tablet onto the mahogany table. It slid across the polished surface and hit my hand.
I didn't look at the screen. I looked at Henderson.
"What is this?"
"The SEC filing," Henderson said. "Arthur Vane didn't just sue you for kidnapping. He’s filed a formal complaint for market manipulation. He’s alleging that you and Isabella coordinated the 'kidnapping' to drive up Sterling's stock and trigger a hostile takeover of Vane assets."
The room went silent.
It was a classic move. Poison the well. If the SEC opened an investigation, the stock would tank. The merger would be legally blocked.
"It’s a lie," I said.
"Is it? You were on the island. You were with her. There is footage of you two in the cellar. It looks... intimate, Liam."
I felt the heat in my face. The cellar. The smell of the damp earth. The way she had—
No.
"We were trying to stay alive," I said.
"The tapes suggest you were negotiating," Henderson said. "Arthur is claiming you held her hostage until she agreed to do the interview. He’s saying the 'immunity' he signed was a ransom note."
"He’s desperate."
"Desperate men are dangerous, Liam. Especially when they have proof."
The door opened.
The rest of the board filed in. They didn't look at me. They looked at the floor.
Sarah, the head of the audit committee, sat down. She looked sick.
"Liam," she said. "We’ve seen the filing."
"It’s a stall tactic," I said. "Arthur is losing control of his own firm. He’s trying to take me down with him."
"He’s offering to drop the charges," Sarah said.
I froze. "In exchange for what?"
"Your resignation. Effective immediately. And the transfer of your majority shares to a neutral trust."
I laughed. It was a sharp, jagged sound. "A neutral trust? Let me guess. Controlled by a Vane-appointed bank?"
"It’s the only way to stabilize the stock," Henderson said. "If you stay, the SEC will freeze everything. The company will die."
I looked around the room. Twelve people. I had hired half of them. I had made the other half millionaires.
Now, they were looking for the exit.
"You're actually considering this?" I asked.
"We have a fiduciary responsibility to the shareholders," Sarah said. "We can't ignore a federal investigation."
"There is no investigation yet! It’s a filing!"
"The headline is enough," Henderson said.
He leaned in. "Walk away, Liam. You have enough money. Take the girl and go to a beach somewhere. Let us save what’s left of this place."
I looked at the tablet.
The green line was starting to waver.
$43.50.
$43.10.
The rumors were already hitting the floor.
I reached into my pocket and touched the piece of wood.
I am exactly where I need to be, Isabella had said.
She wasn't on a beach. She was in a war.
And I was letting a man in a cheap suit tell me I had lost.
"I'm not resigning," I said.
"Then we proceed with the vote," Henderson said.
"Proceed."
I sat down at the head of the table. I didn't feel the pain in my shoulder anymore. I felt cold.
A structure. A bridge. You find the point where the weight is heaviest. You find the bolt that is under the most tension.
And you hit it.
"Before we vote," I said, "I think you should look at the trade logs from this morning."
I pulled my own tablet out and swiped a file to the center screen.
A list of names. Buy orders.
"Who is 'Blue Atlantic Holdings'?" Sarah asked.
"It’s a shell," I said. "Registered in the Caymans. They’ve been buying every share Henderson’s friends have been selling."
I looked at Henderson.
"And do you know who owns Blue Atlantic?"
Henderson didn't blink. But a bead of sweat rolled down his temple.
"It’s the Vane Trust," I said. "But not Arthur’s. It’s the one Isabella took control of this morning."
The room was so quiet I could hear the hum of the air conditioning.
"She’s buying the company," Sarah whispered.
"No," I said. "She’s buying you."
I stood up.
"The vote is moot. Isabella Vane now holds 15% of the voting stock. Combined with my shares, we have the majority. Henderson, you’re fired."
Henderson’s mouth opened. Nothing came out.
"Felix, get security," I said.
I walked out of the room.
I didn't wait for the fallout. I didn't wait for the questions.
I got to my office and slammed the door.
I picked up the phone.
I dialed the frequency on the wood.
It rang once. Twice.
"Liam," she said.
Her voice was tired. It sounded like the island.
"You’re buying my board," I said.
"They were for sale," Isabella replied. "I thought you liked efficiency."
"Where are you?"
"In the tower. The doors are locked from the outside. My father is... not doing well."
"I'm coming to get you."
"No. Not yet. There’s something you need to see. On the Medusa server."
"Isabella—"
"Liam. Look at the data. Look at what my mother was actually doing."
The line went dead.
I looked at my computer.
A new folder had appeared.
Project Heartbeat.
I opened it.
It wasn't code.
It was a map of the city.
And there were red dots everywhere.
Every dot was a Sterling Tech server.
And they were all turning black.
One by one.
"Liam!" Felix burst in. "The network! It’s crashing! Everything is going dark!"
I looked at the screen.
The dots were disappearing.
The company wasn't being bought.
It was being erased.
Cliffhanger:
The intercom on my desk buzzed.
"Mr. Sterling," the receptionist’s voice was shaking. "There are men in the lobby. They say they’re from the Department of Justice."
I looked at the screen.
The last red dot vanished.
And then, my own monitor went black.
In the center of the darkness, a single sentence appeared in white text:
The fire follows the fuse.
It was my mother’s handwriting.
- Writer
