Part 8
The recording took forty-five minutes.
Forty-five minutes of systematic, cold-blooded truth that made Daniel’s blood run cold.
Evans detailed how Margaret had approached him with a plan to declare Ava mentally incompetent.
He confessed to prescribing a cocktail of heavy anti-psychotics and localized muscle relaxants designed to mimic the symptoms of early-onset dementia and motor neuron disease.
He admitted that the goal was to create a paper trail so dense that no court in the country would question the validity of Margaret taking over Ava’s legal rights.
When they finally left the clinic, the rain had stopped, leaving the city streets glistening under the neon lights.
Daniel drove them to a private penthouse apartment owned by the Vance corporation, a place Margaret didn't even know existed.
It was a sanctuary, high above the noise of the world, surrounded by glass and security personnel.
Daniel carried Ava to the large, plush bed, tucking the blankets around her.
For the first time in months, the room didn't feel like a cage.
“You need to sleep, my love,” Daniel whispered, kissing her forehead.
“The doctors from St. Jude’s are sending over a specialized detox regimen in the morning. You’re safe now. I promise you.”
Ava gripped his sleeve, her eyes wide.
“Where are you going?”
“I have to meet Arthur at the corporate headquarters,” Daniel said, his face hardening.
“Margaret isn't the type to wait for the police to knock on her door. She’s going to try to move the funds before the freeze takes full effect. She has a network of loyalists on the board who will try to protect her. I have to cut off her escape routes.”
Ava let go of his sleeve slowly, nodding.
“Don't let her control the story, Daniel. She always said that the truth belongs to the person who speaks loudest.”
“The truth belongs to us now,” Daniel said.
He left Rosa and two armed security guards at the penthouse door and took the elevator down to the garage.
By the time he reached the Vance Global tower, it was 2:00 AM.
The top floor was completely lit up, a beacon of glass and steel against the night sky.
As Daniel stepped out of the executive elevator, he found the boardroom doors wide open.
Sitting at the head of the massive glass conference table was Margaret.
She had changed into a pristine cream-colored suit.
Not a hair was out of place.
Surrounded by four of the company’s top board members, she looked like a queen preparing for war.
She looked up as Daniel entered, a cold, triumphant smile spreading across her lips.
“You're late, Daniel,” Margaret said calmly, tapping a neat stack of documents in front of her.
“The board has just called an emergency session. And I’m afraid you no longer have the authority to freeze my accounts.”
Daniel stopped at the threshold, his expression entirely unreadable.
“Is that so?”
“According to Article 4 of the corporate bylaws,” Margaret said, her voice dripping with satisfaction, “a CEO who faces serious allegations of domestic instability and reckless endangerment of corporate assets can be temporarily suspended by a majority vote of the executive committee. And right now, the committee agrees with me.”
She gestured to the board members around her, men who owed their fortunes to her late husband.
“We’ve just notified the press, Daniel. By 6:00 AM, the world will know that you’ve had a nervous breakdown and have kidnapped your sick wife from her medical facility.”
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Margaret leaned back, her eyes gleaming with malice.
“You thought you could beat me? I built this board. I own this company. You are just a boy playing in my house.”
