Chapter 4 - The Ultimate Checkmate
"You..." Andrew stammered, his mind short-circuiting as the reality of his situation crashed down on him. "You are Vanguard Holdings?"
"I am Vanguard Holdings," I confirmed softly. "I am Bellweather Estate. I am the bank that pulled your loan yesterday. I am the woman you allowed your mother to publicly humiliate because you thought I was a stepping stone."
Andrew fell into his chair, burying his face in his hands. "Oh my god. Oh my god, Clara. Please."
"Please what, Andrew?" I asked, leaning forward, resting my elbows on the glass table. "Please give you five million dollars? Please save your mother's house from foreclosure? Please reward you for standing at an altar and telling me to apologize to a woman who destroyed my grandmother's lace?"
He looked up, tears streaming down his face. The handsome, confident facade had entirely melted away, leaving nothing but a terrified, weak boy. "I was wrong. I was so stupid. She manipulated me, Clara! She told me if I didn't back her up, she would disown me!"
"She has nothing to disown you from, Andrew. You're both completely bankrupt."
I picked up the contract.
"This business model relies entirely on the source code you surrendered to my tech team during the due diligence phase," I explained, watching his eyes widen in fresh horror. "A source code that, according to page forty-two of the preliminary agreement you signed last month, becomes the intellectual property of Vanguard Holdings if the final funding round is canceled due to a breach of a morality clause."
Andrew opened his mouth, but no sound came out.
"You didn't read the fine print, did you?" I smiled. It wasn't a kind smile. "I own your app, Andrew. I own the code. I own the patents you filed under the company name."
I took the gold pen from the table and drew a thick, black line straight through his signature on the contract.
"Funding denied," I said, sliding the ruined contract back across the table.
"You can't do this!" he screamed, suddenly leaping to his feet, slamming his fists on the glass. "You stole my company! You stole my life! I'll sue you! I'll take everything you have!"
Marcus stepped forward instantly, pressing a button on his smartwatch. "I wouldn't threaten the CEO, Mr. Whitlock."
Two security guards entered the boardroom.
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"Escort Mr. Whitlock out," I ordered. "And if he or his mother attempt to contact me, approach my properties, or speak to my staff, file a restraining order and forward the evidence of his previous wire fraud attempts—the ones my auditors found in his financial history—directly to the FBI."
Andrew didn't fight the guards. He was completely, utterly broken. He looked back at me one last time as they dragged him out the door, his eyes filled with the haunting realization that he had burned down his own castle just to keep his mother warm.
