Chapter 4 - The Midnight Retainer-4
The phone rang twice before a deep, gravelly voice answered on the other end. "If this is a social call, lose the number. If it's legal business, state your name and your retainer budget."
"Marcus, it's Naomi Albright."
A sharp intake of breath hissed through the receiver. Marcus Vance had been my father’s closest confidant and legal bulldog for over thirty years before retiring from active courtroom litigation to run his private advisory firm.
"Naomi? My God, child, where are you? I heard about the funeral yesterday, and rumor has it your husband—that smirking little upstart Gavin—has already taken over the executive suite at Summit Enterprises. People are saying you've been disowned and locked out."
"People are wrong," I replied smoothly, leaning against the cold marble counter of the vault room. "Gavin stole sixty percent of my shares while I was running a high fever two weeks ago, and last night, he threw me out of my own house into the pouring rain. But he forgot one golden rule of business, Marcus: possession is nine-tenths of the law, but absolute proof is an executioner's sword."
A low, rumbling chuckle echoed from the other end of the line. It was the sound of a predator recognizing another predator awakening from hibernation.
"Tell me you have the safety deposit box," Marcus said, his tone instantly shifting into razor-sharp professional focus.
"I have the flash drive, the physical audit logs, and my father's final voice recording detailing Gavin’s entire conspiracy—including the sabotage of his vehicle."
Silence hung on the line for three seconds before Marcus spoke again, his voice dropping into a lethal register. "Get over to my private office on 5th Avenue immediately. Use the subterranean parking garage entrance; I'll have security waiting with a nondescript vehicle so Gavin's corporate spies don't track your movements. We have less than twelve hours before the emergency board meeting Gavin called for tomorrow morning to ratify his hostile takeover."
"A board meeting?" I arched an eyebrow. "Gavin is moving fast."
"He's terrified," Marcus explained. "He knows the board has lingering doubts about his sudden elevation, so he’s rushing a formal vote to make his takeover permanent before the weekend hits. If he secures that board ratification tomorrow at 10:00 AM, freezing his assets becomes legally treacherous."
"Then we won't let him reach 10:00 AM with his title intact," I said coldly. "See you in twenty minutes, Marcus."
May you like
I hung up the phone, handed the burner back to Mr. Henderson with a nod of gratitude, and stepped out into the damp, pre-dawn streets of downtown Oakville. A sleek black town car with tinted windows was idling quietly by the corner of the alley—Marcus’s advance team.
As I slid into the leather-lined interior of the car, I looked out the window at the glittering skyscrapers piercing the morning fog. Summit Enterprises owned half of this city. Gavin Barrett thought he was sitting on top of the world. By noon today, I was going to pull the rug out from under him and watch him fall into the abyss.
