Chapter 3 - The Revocation of a Legacy
While Carter was trapped in a metal tube at thirty thousand feet,
I was standing in the penthouse of the Vance Building,
looking out over the city skyline.
In my hand was a glass of chilled sparkling water,
and on the table behind me were the original documents for the Sterling Group’s foundation.
My lawyer,
a man who had served my father for thirty years and who looked at me with the pride of a mentor,
laid out the final injunctions.
“He never read the fine print,
did he?”
Marcus asked,
shaking his head.
“Never,”
I replied,
watching a bird fly past the window.
“Carter was so blinded by his own ego that he assumed any document I gave him to sign was just a formality.
He thought I was his secretary,
his cheerleader,
and his bank,
all rolled into one.
He forgot I was his partner.”
“Well,”
Marcus said,
tapping a pen against the mahogany table,
“as of ten minutes ago,
the Sterling Group no longer has the legal right to use the 'Apex' algorithm.
Since that algorithm runs 90% of their software,
they are effectively out of business by morning.”
I turned around,
the sunlight catching the sharp angles of my suit.
“What about the personal assets?”
“The jet is leased through a shell company you control,”
Marcus explained with a thin smile.
“The pilot has orders to land at a private airfield in the Azores for refueling.
Once they land,
the plane will be impounded for 'unpaid fees'.
Mr. Sterling and his guests will be stranded.”
I felt a cold shiver of satisfaction.
Carter loved to show off.
He loved the private jet because it represented a status he hadn’t earned.
He used it to humiliate me,
to show the world that I was just a passenger in his life.
Now,
he would find out what it was like to be a passenger in mine.
“And my mother-in-law?”
I asked.
“Her mansion is technically a corporate asset of the Sterling Group,”
Marcus replied.
“Since the group is now in default of the Vance loan,
we’ve started the foreclosure process.
The locks will be changed by the time she gets back.”
I walked over to the desk and picked up a photograph.
It was from our wedding day.
Carter looked so handsome,
so full of promise.
I looked so happy,
so naive.
I had believed in him.
I had given him the keys to the kingdom because I thought he would build a world for us.
Instead,
he built a throne for himself and invited everyone else to sit on it.
I dropped the photo into the paper shredder.
The sound of the machine devouring the image was cathartic.
“Send the press release,”
I commanded.
“I want the world to know that the Sterling Group is a hollow shell.
I want the investors to know that the brains of the operation just walked out the door.
And Marcus?”
“Yes,
Samantha?”
“Make sure the news reaches the flight.
I want Carter to have plenty of time to think about his choices before he hits the ground.”
I walked back to the window.
The city looked different now.
It didn't look like a place where I had to hide in the shadows of a man’s ego.
It looked like a playground.
I had spent four years being the power behind the throne.
It was time to take the throne for myself.
The phone on the desk rang.
It was the head of the board of directors.
“Samantha,”
the man stammered,
his voice full of panic.
“We’ve seen the filings.
We’ve seen the stock crash.
Please,
we need to talk.
The board is prepared to remove Carter immediately if you’ll just reinstate the licenses.”
I smiled,
taking a slow sip of my water.
“The price for the licenses has just gone up,”
I said.
“And it’s not something you can pay in money.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want a front-row seat to the collapse,”
May you like
I said,
and hung up.
