Chapter 6 - THE BOARDROOM
Cold garage air flooded the van. Three men in dark suits and tactical vests stood at the open rear doors, their weapons drawn and leveled at Evan and Olivia.
Leo woke up with a sharp cry. Evan immediately threw his body over his son, shielding him.
“Nobody moves,” Eleanor commanded from the front passenger seat, her pistol still aimed at Simon. “Take the laptop. And the girl.”
Olivia’s heart hammered against her ribs, loud and frantic like a trapped bird. Her aunt. Her own flesh and blood. The betrayal tasted like ash in her mouth.
A man reached in and grabbed the laptop, slamming it shut. Another man reached for Olivia’s wheelchair.
“Don’t touch her!” Simon roared, his massive frame tensing.
“Ah-ah,” Eleanor warned, clicking the hammer back on her pistol. “Simon, I know about your daughter in Connecticut. Don’t make her an orphan today.”
Simon froze. The muscle in his jaw feathered, a look of pure agony crossing his stoic face. He slowly raised his hands, stepping back.
The men grabbed the handles of Olivia’s chair and roughly wheeled her backward out of the van. The jarring motion sent a horrific spike of pain up her spine. She bit her lip so hard she tasted copper, refusing to scream.
“Evan!” Olivia yelled as they pulled her away.
“Leave the engineer and the kid,” Eleanor ordered, stepping out of the van and smoothing her wool coat. “They’re nobodies. Destroy the prototype, though.”
One of the men grabbed the steel briefcase containing Evan’s life work. Evan lunged for it, but a rifle butt to the stomach dropped him to the concrete, gasping for air. Leo screamed, crying out for his dad.
“No!” Olivia cried, fighting against the men holding her chair. Her useless legs remained motionless, a cruel anchor.
Eleanor walked up to Olivia, holding the laptop. She looked down at her paralyzed niece.
“You could have just stayed quiet, Liv,” Eleanor said softly. “You could have played the tragic heiress. You’ll be taken to a private facility. Comfortable, I promise. But you will never leave.”
Eleanor turned to her men. “Put her in the SUV. We’re going to the board meeting.”
They loaded Olivia into the back of a black Suburban. The doors slammed shut, locking her in darkness. Through the tinted window, she saw Evan on his knees, clutching Leo, watching the SUV pull away.
The drive to Hartwell Tower was a blur of neon lights and snow. Olivia sat in the dark, her mind racing. She didn't have the files. She didn't have Evan’s prototype. She didn't have Simon.
But as the SUV sped through the city, Olivia realized something.
She wasn’t just a tragic heiress. She was her mother’s daughter.
When the SUV pulled into the underground VIP loading dock of Hartwell Tower, the men hauled her out. Eleanor walked ahead, leading the way to the private executive elevator.
“Top floor,” Eleanor told the guard.
The doors slid shut. The elevator shot upward, making Olivia’s stomach drop.
“What happens now, Aunt Eleanor?” Olivia asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.
“Now, we walk into the emergency board meeting. Sterling will announce your father’s ‘early retirement’ due to the stress of your worsening medical condition. I will be named interim CEO. And the defective titanium problem will be quietly settled out of court over the next decade.”
The elevator chimed. Floor 60.
The doors opened to a sprawling lobby of glass and marble. Beyond a set of heavy oak double doors lay the boardroom.
Eleanor pushed Olivia’s chair forward. The men in suits flanked them.
As they approached the oak doors, they suddenly swung open.
Standing there was Richard Hartwell.
He looked ten years older. His suit jacket was off, his tie undone, his face pale and drawn. But his eyes were blazing.
“Liv,” Richard breathed, rushing forward.
“Back away, Richard,” Eleanor said coldly, the armed men stepping in front of her. “It’s over. You’ve lost.”
Richard stopped, looking at the men, then at his sister, and finally at Olivia. He saw the pain in her eyes. He saw the truth she had learned.
“I’m sorry, Liv,” Richard whispered, his voice cracking. “I was a coward. I thought if I kept it buried, I could keep you safe.”
“You didn’t keep me safe, Dad,” Olivia said, her voice echoing in the marble lobby. “You just built me a very expensive cage.”
From inside the boardroom, a sleek, arrogant voice called out.
“Is that the guest of honor?”
Thomas Sterling, the CEO, walked out. He was a handsome man in his fifties with shark-like eyes. He smiled at Olivia, a smile utterly devoid of warmth.
“Olivia. So tragic to see you like this,” Sterling said. He looked at Eleanor. “Do you have the drive?”
Eleanor held up the laptop. “I have it all. The files, the locket. It’s done, Thomas.”
Sterling smirked. “Excellent. Richard, sign the papers on the table, and we’ll let your daughter live out her days in a very nice sanitarium in Switzerland.”
Richard’s shoulders slumped. He looked defeated. He took a step toward the boardroom table, ready to surrender his empire to save her life.
“Wait,” Olivia said.
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the room like a gunshot.
Everyone stopped.
Olivia reached her hand down. Not to her wheels. But to the hem of her midnight-blue dress.
She looked at Sterling, then at her father.
“You think I’m powerless because I’m sitting down,” Olivia said, her eyes flashing with a fierce, terrifying light. “But you forgot one thing about me, Thomas.”
Sterling frowned. “And what is that?”
Olivia gripped the armrests of her titanium wheelchair.
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“I’m the only one here who has absolutely nothing left to lose.”
And with a sickening, metallic crunch, Olivia jammed her thumb into the exposed battery housing of her chair, ripping out a fistful of wires.
