She brought the stack into Julian’s study while he was furiously screaming at a vendor on speakerphone. "Sign here, here, and here," she whispered, pointing to the sticky notes she had attached.
Julian, irritated by the interruption and distracted by his own voice, didn't even look down. He blindly scrawled his signature on page after page, eager to get her out of his office. When his pen scratched across the proxy transfer, Sarah felt her heart skip a beat.
He handed the stack back to her. "Get out." Sarah took the papers. The trap was sprung.
With the document signed, there was only one blank left to fill: the name of the trustee who would assume control of Julian’s shares.
Maxwell had assumed it would be him. But when Sarah met him to deliver the signed document, she had already filled in the blank.
Maxwell stared at the name. "Sarah... are you sure about this?" "He humiliated me," Sarah said, her voice devoid of emotion. "He looked at me and told me I was nothing. I want him to look at me when he loses his empire. I want him to know that 'nothing' is the reason he fell."
Maxwell chuckled, a dry, raspy sound. "The board will be shocked." "The board cares about profit," Sarah countered. "When you show them the dossier of his crimes, and then show them that I hold the controlling interest and am backing you to stabilize the ship... they will fall in line."
"And what happens to you?" "I take my rightful place," Sarah said.
The annual Vance Global Shareholder Gala was the crown jewel of Julian’s social calendar. It was a night of excessive opulence held at the Grand Plaza Hotel, a night where Julian paraded his wealth and power before the elite of the city.
In the week leading up to the gala, Julian was in high spirits. The merger was supposedly on track. He was untouchable. He practically strutted through the halls of his mansion, completely oblivious to the silent clock ticking down to his ruin.
Sarah packed her bags. She arranged for Lily to stay with her grandmother for the weekend, sparing the child from the fallout. She left her nanny uniform neatly folded on her modest bed. She walked out of the Vance Estate without looking back, carrying only a sleek black leather folder.
The Grand Plaza ballroom was a sea of velvet, diamonds, and champagne. Chandeliers the size of small cars cast a golden glow over the hundreds of attendees.
Julian stood at the podium on the grand stage, looking out over his kingdom. He wore a tuxedo that cost more than most people made in a year. He raised his glass, basking in the applause of the sycophants below.
"To the future of Vance Global!" Julian boomed into the microphone. "We are standing on the precipice of a new era. We are untouchable!"
In the back of the room, the heavy mahogany doors swung open.
Nobody noticed at first. But as the figure walked down the center aisle, heads began to turn.
It was Sarah. But she was unrecognizable to the staff who knew her. She wore a tailored, midnight-blue designer suit that radiated authority. Her hair, usually tied in a messy bun, fell in sharp, sleek waves. Her heels clicked rhythmically against the marble floor, a steady drumbeat of doom.
Julian was in the middle of a self-congratulatory anecdote when his eyes caught the movement in the aisle. He squinted, the stage lights momentarily blinding him. As the woman drew closer, his confident smile faltered.
"What is this?" Julian muttered into the microphone, the sound carrying across the silent room. He recognized her face, but his brain refused to process the context. "Sarah? What the hell are you doing here?"
Whispers erupted across the ballroom. The nanny? What was the nanny doing here, dressed like a Wall Street raider?
"Security!" Julian barked, his face flushing with anger. "Get her out of here. She’s unstable."
Two burly security guards in dark suits moved to intercept her at the base of the stage. But before they could lay a hand on her, a commanding voice echoed from the front row.
"Stand down."
It was Maxwell Thorne. The Chairman stood up, adjusting his suit jacket. He looked at the guards with a gaze that promised termination. The guards froze, looking between the CEO and the Chairman.