Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Execution
I didn't call my lawyers. I didn't call my PR team. I ran to my waiting car and demanded the driver take me to the address listed on Bennett Innovations' corporate filing.
I expected a small, scrappy startup office. Instead, my car pulled up to a gleaming, thirty-story glass skyscraper in the heart of the financial district. The Bennett Innovations logo was already etched into the marble lobby.
I bypassed security, riding the adrenaline of sheer desperation, and took the elevator to the executive floor. I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the main boardroom.
Claire was sitting at the head of the massive table.
She wasn't wearing the soft, accommodating dresses I had always bought her. She wore a razor-sharp charcoal suit. But on her feet were the battered, comfortable boots she had taken from my closet—the ones I had always begged her to throw away.
“Hello, Daniel,” Claire said, her voice perfectly calm, echoing through the cavernous room.
“What is this, Claire?” I demanded, slamming my hands onto the glass table. “You stole my clients! You poached my team!”
“I didn't steal anything,” she replied, not flinching. “I offered them a superior product. The product you told me was a waste of time. I just happened to wait until you signed a legally binding document waving all rights to my future intellectual property to launch it.”
“I’ll sue you into oblivion,” I threatened, though my voice shook. “I’ll bury you in litigation.”
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Claire smiled. It was a cold, terrifying expression. “With what money, Daniel? Look at your stock ticker.”
I pulled out my phone. Morgan Holdings was in a freefall. We had lost half our market cap in three hours.
