Arthur looked at the portfolio, then up at the oil portraits of his ancestors lining the library walls. The Sinclair name had survived wars, depressions, and corporate raids. It would not be dismantled by entitlement.
"Let's prepare the final invoice," Arthur said quietly. "Let them see exactly what their pride costs."
Chapter 3: The Boardroom Confrontation
The panoramic conference room on the forty-fifth floor of Sinclair Tower offered a breathtaking view of the city skyline, though the atmosphere inside was anything but serene. Morning sunlight pierced through the glass, illuminating the polished walnut table where the board members sat in tense silence.
Marcus and Vivienne sat at the head of the table, flanked by their own legal counsel—a high-priced corporate defense attorney named Henderson, who wore an air of aggressive confidence. Vivienne wore a bespoke white Chanel suit, her chin held high, radiating the triumphant aura of someone convinced she had already won the war.
Clara sat midway down the table, composed and analytical, reviewing the quarterly data streams on her tablet. She remained silent, aware that the storm was about to break.