Chapter 15 #2
Patterson shifted uncomfortably. "We're not undermining—"
"You called an emergency meeting to question his authority while he secures our future," I said.
"You demanded explanations from a man who's forgotten more about strategy than you'll ever learn.
" I paused, letting the silence stretch.
"And some of you have been actively selling information to his enemies. "
Rebecca Marchand's stylus froze over her tablet.
Hendrik straightened in his chair. "What exactly are you implying?"
"I'm stating facts." I pulled up intelligence reports, each testifying to their shortsightedness. "Shaw's knowledge of our operations extends beyond stolen prototypes. Someone in this room thought quarterly bonuses mattered more than the company's survival."
The evidence I displayed appeared damning but incomplete—financial irregularities, communication patterns, unexplained contacts. Enough to create suspicion, but not enough to identify the specific traitor.
"Our internal audits reveal sophisticated penetration of our security systems," I continued.
"Hidden surveillance equipment in locations that should be impenetrable.
Compromised communications. Unauthorized access to classified materials.
" I looked up, gaze sweeping the room and the screens.
"Someone has transformed Lucky Losers into Shaw's personal intelligence operation. "
Brennan shifted on his screen. "This is absurd. We're all committed to Lucky Losers' success. Why would any of us sabotage the company?"
"Because Shaw offered what small minds always want." My smile cut cold and sharp. "Money. Quick solutions to petty problems while a great man handles the real work."
I pulled up financial records. "Walsh's expensive divorce settlement, funded by deposits from shell companies traced to GidTech subsidiaries. Morrison's family troubles—the boutique, the medical school loans—similarly resolved through offshore accounts that connect to Shaw's network."
Blood drained from their faces as shallow betrayals stood exposed. Walsh's screen flickered as he leaned back, mouth opening and closing without sound.
"You sold out a visionary for pocket change," I continued, voice barely above a whisper. "While Algerone built an empire that governments fear and rivals envy, you counted coins from his competitors."
"This is slander," Morrison managed, but his voice cracked on the second word. "You can't prove—"
"I can prove enough to trigger SEC investigations that will freeze your assets for years.
" I held his gaze until he looked away. "I can prove enough to ensure you never sit on another board in this country.
Whether it rises to criminal charges..." I shrugged.
"That depends entirely on your cooperation going forward. "
Patterson cleared his throat. "Assuming these allegations have any merit—and I'm not conceding they do—what exactly are you proposing?"
"I'm proposing that this board issue a unanimous vote of confidence in Algerone's leadership.
Tonight, before the market opens. I'm proposing that every member of this board submit to a full security audit, including financial records, communication logs, and physical access histories.
And I'm proposing that anyone who refuses will be treated as a hostile actor and dealt with accordingly. "
The threat hung in the air.
"You can't compel—" Hendrik began.
"I can't compel anything." I cut him off.
"But I can recommend to Algerone that certain board members' positions be reviewed at the next shareholder meeting.
I can ensure that certain financial irregularities find their way to the appropriate regulatory bodies.
I can make your lives extremely uncomfortable for a very long time.
" I smiled, and it wasn't pleasant. "Or you can cooperate, help us identify the full extent of Shaw's infiltration, and emerge from this crisis with your reputations—and your freedom—intact. "
The silence stretched. On the screens, Walsh and Brennan exchanged glances. Around the table, Patterson studied me with something that might have been grudging respect.
"The vote of confidence," Patterson finally said. "You want it in writing?"
"I want it recorded, witnessed, and filed with Legal before any of you leave this room." I nodded toward Rebecca Marchand. "Ms. Marchand will prepare the documentation."
"And the security audit?"
"Begins at nine AM. Anyone who fails to appear will be assumed to have something to hide."
Patterson looked around the table, reading the room. Whatever calculation he ran, it came out in my favor. "All in favor of a vote of confidence in Algerone Caisse-Etremont's continued leadership during the current crisis?"
Seven hands went up. Some were slower than others, but they all went up.
"Motion carries unanimously." Patterson's voice was flat. "Congratulations, Maxime. You've made your point."
"I haven't begun to make my point." I straightened my jacket. "But it's a start."
As Rebecca Marchand drafted the formal documentation, I stepped away from the table and pulled out my phone. Two messages waited—one from Reid confirming tactical positions in Vancouver, one from Algerone.
How's the board handling things?
I typed back: Unanimous vote of confidence. Walsh and Morrison exposed as compromised. Full security audit beginning at nine.
His response came immediately: Any resistance?
Nothing I couldn't handle. But Algerone, Shaw has surveillance in your penthouse. Hidden cameras in the bedroom.
A longer pause before his reply: How do you know?
Someone sent me photographs. Trying to rattle me during the meeting. I hesitated, then added: They captured us. Together.
The pause stretched longer this time. Then: Are you all right?
I almost smiled. After everything, the betrayal, the confession, the raw honesty of the past twenty-four hours, his first concern was still whether I was all right.
Furious. But functional. I'll handle the sweep personally.
No, have Reid's team do it when they return. I don't want you alone in that residence until we know what we're dealing with.
Understood.
And Maxime? Whoever sent those photos made a mistake. They thought they could use us against each other. They're about to learn how wrong they were.
I'll make sure of it.
I pocketed the phone and turned back to the board members, who were signing the documentation Rebecca Marchand had prepared. Patterson caught my eye and nodded. He'd been outmaneuvered, and he was smart enough to recognize it.
"Gentlemen," I addressed them. "We have four hours until the market opens. Legal will prepare our official statement. Media relations will coordinate all external communications. No one—and I mean no one—speaks to the press, analysts, or regulators without explicit authorization from this office."
"And what will you be doing?" Hendrik asked.
"Ensuring that when Algerone returns with our prototype, he has a company to return to." I gathered my tablet and moved toward the door. "I suggest you all get whatever sleep you can. The next few days will be demanding."
I paused at the threshold, looking back at the men who, an hour ago, had plotted to question Algerone's authority. Now they sat diminished, exposed, aware for the first time of the forces arrayed against them, and equally aware that their only protection came from the man they'd tried to undermine.
"One more thing." My voice carried across the room.
"The infiltration we've uncovered tonight extends beyond financial compromises.
Shaw has assets we haven't identified yet.
People in positions of trust. Anyone who has information about additional security breaches has until noon to come forward voluntarily.
After that..." I let the silence speak for itself.
Morrison's face went gray. Walsh's screen disconnected abruptly.
"Good evening, gentlemen."
I walked out without looking back.
In the elevator, alone for the first time since the meeting began, I allowed myself one moment to feel the weight of the photographs. Someone had watched us. Recorded us. Tried to weaponize the most honest moments of my existence.
The rage was still there, banked but burning. I would find them. I would make them understand exactly what they'd touched.
But underneath the fury, something else had settled into place. Algerone had asked if I was all right. Not about the security breach, not about the board, not about the implications for the company. About me.
They thought they could use us against each other.
They'd failed. Whatever else happened, they'd failed at the one thing that mattered.
We were still us. Broken and complicated and carrying wounds that might never fully heal, but us.
The elevator opened onto the parking garage. Dawn was still two hours away, but the sky had begun to lighten at the edges, the first hint of the day to come.
Shaw wanted war. He'd get one.
But he'd made a critical error. He'd underestimated what it meant to stand beside Algerone Caisse-Etremont. Not just serve him. Stand with him.
And that would be his undoing.