The air in the executive suite of the Lacy Corporation was thick enough to choke on. The scent of ozone from the camera flashes mingled with the heavy, artificial floral perfume of Beatrice Lacy and the sour sweat of a dozen desperate relatives. It felt less like a corporate office and more like a Roman arena, with Sarah Lacy standing alone in the center, surrounded by predators.
"Ms. Lacy, were these equity transfers a calculated swindle?" a reporter from the Valor City Business Journal shouted, thrusting a foam-covered microphone inches from her face.
"Is it true you leveraged your position to intentionally mislead your elders about the company's fiscal health?" another voice barked from the back of the pack.
"How do you sleep at night, Sarah?" a third journalist added, his tone dripp
