"Whoever this Vanguard group is," Eleanor addressed the board, trying to shake off the morning's incident, "we need to make it clear that I am still the CEO of this company. We will not be bullied into restructuring."
"Eleanor," one of the older board members sighed, "Vanguard now holds a 51% stake. They have a controlling interest. Technically, they own the company now. We have to play ball."
Before Eleanor could retort, the heavy glass doors of the boardroom swung open.
The room fell silent as a man walked in. He was no longer wearing a hoodie. He was dressed in a bespoke, razor-sharp midnight blue Tom Ford suit. He carried a leather briefcase, projecting an aura of absolute authority.
Eleanor stood up, all the color draining from her face. It was the man from the garage.
"Good morning, everyone," he said, his voice commanding the room. He walked directly to the empty seat next to Eleanor—the Chairman's seat.
"I believe introductions are in order," he continued, opening his briefcase. "My name is Marcus Vance. I am the Founder and Managing Partner of Vanguard Holdings."
A collective gasp echoed around the table. Eleanor collapsed back into her chair, her heart hammering in her chest. The "street thug" she had just called the cops on was the billionaire owner of Vanguard Holdings.
Marcus connected his tablet to the projector. "Over the past few months, my team has analyzed Sterling & Co. You have prime assets, but your leadership is toxic, outdated, and actively hemorrhaging talent. Today, we begin a new chapter."