Chapter 99 Difficult to Handle
Chapter 99 Difficult to Handle
"This looks like a warehouse location," Sophia murmured, frowning at the screen. "But the coordinates are… off."
Henry leaned in, tapping the map with his finger. "They're thirty years old. Back then, this would've been on the outskirts. Now it's an abandoned factory."
"So we check it out?" Her eyes lit with a spark of anticipation.
"Tomorrow," Henry said, glancing at the rain streaking the window. "Get some rest tonight. You'll need it for the shareholders' meeting."
The boardroom of the Caldwell Corporation was heavy with tension.
A long table stretched between the shareholders, their faces etched with suspicion and calculation.
Henry sat at the head, his fingers drumming a slow, steady rhythm on the polished wood as his gaze swept the room.
Across from him, Thomas slouched in a wrinkled suit, red-rimmed eyes betraying sleepless nights.
"I propose we remove Mr. Henry Caldwell from the position of CEO and hold a new election," Oscar said.
Oscar, who technically had no speaking rights in the meeting, leaned forward.
Representing Thomas gave him the opening he needed. His voice was calm, but it landed like a grenade.
"Perhaps the board should take a look at this." He slid a document to the center of the table. "Signed authorizations from Eugene, Lloyd, and Walter."
"Three senior members," Oscar continued, voice as flat and cold as ice, "who believe Mr. Henry Caldwell's recent decisions have strayed dangerously from the company's course—decisions that hint at collusion with outside forces, jeopardizing the foundation of the Caldwell Corporation."
Walter Wood, seated at the far end, slammed his palm on the table. "Absolute nonsense! I never signed anything like this."
His knuckles whitened as he jabbed at the page. "This signature looks like a child's scribble. Do you think we're blind, Oscar?"
Unfazed, Oscar clicked a remote. The projector lit up with footage of Walter in a hospital bed, a nurse holding his wrist for a blood draw. His assistant stood beside him, leaning in with a document.
The camera zoomed. The words "Authorization Letter" were faint but visible at the top.
"You suffered a heart attack last month," Oscar said smoothly. "Your assistant signed on your behalf and applied your fingerprint later. You could claim forgery, of course… but HR's records show your power of attorney was active that day."
Walter's face flushed dark. He had, in fact, signed a blank authorization before being hospitalized. He hadn't imagined Oscar would weaponize it.
Beneath the table, Henry's fingers tapped once, his eyes flicking toward Susan.
Susan sat beside Thomas, looking fully recovered.
Today she wore a sharp black suit, her hair pulled into a severe knot, a recorder pen in her hand—her signature method of leverage.
"Quite the effort, Mr. Oscar Caldwell," Henry said at last, his tone unreadable. "But if you think a few questionable documents are enough to remove me, you're underestimating this board."
"Questionable?" Oscar's voice suddenly rose.
The projector switched to offshore account statements. Red negative figures bled across the screen.
Oscar smirked. "Three hundred million lost last year in the overseas division—losses you buried, Henry. And last month's renewable energy contract? Awarded to a company tied to Miss Bennett's late father. Still think this is a game?"
He jabbed a finger toward Sophia. "Everyone here knows who she is. She's been using Henry for her own ends. Keeping her in this company is like leaving the vault door wide open."
A murmur rippled through the room. A few of Oscar's allies nodded in agreement.
"We should investigate her background."
"Henry's letting personal attachments cloud his judgment."
Sophia stepped forward and dropped her tablet onto the table with a sharp crack. The screen lit up with an audio waveform, the faint sound of harbor horns in the background.
"Perhaps Mr. Oscar Caldwell should explain this first," she said, pressing play.
Oscar's voice filled the room. "Move the shipment to Warehouse Three. Once the meeting starts, I'll keep Henry distracted…"
His expression tightened, then smoothed into a smirk. "A fabricated recording, Miss Bennett? That's the best you've got?"
He glanced at Susan, who rose smoothly, twirling the recorder pen between her fingers.
"I have something better," she said, pressing play.
Sophia's voice came through, cold and clipped, "The Black Ice Project's ledger is in my hands. If you want it back, you'll meet my terms…"
Susan's smile was feline. "Miss Bennett not only stole company secrets, she used them to blackmail Henry. That's espionage."
Sophia's brow arched. The voice was hers, but the second half—where she and Henry had been running a simulation—was gone.
"Impressive editing, Miss Simmons." Sophia tapped her tablet again.
This time, the screen showed Susan in a hallway, recorder in hand, lurking outside a study door.
Sophia said coldly, "You forgot about the upgraded security cameras."
Susan's face drained of color.
Before the tension could settle, Thomas shot to his feet, waving a share transfer agreement. "I support Oscar! I'll give him all my shares if it means removing Henry. He didn't care about my child's life—he's unfit to lead this company!"
Henry's eyes lifted to meet his. "All your shares? Including the trust fund from our mother?"
Thomas froze. He hadn't realized the trust counted as shares.
Sensing the shift, Oscar clapped his hands. The doors swung open and a dozen men in black suits strode in, short batons in hand. At their head was the man from the dock, the scar on his wrist still raw.
"Looks like we'll need a more… persuasive approach," Oscar said, stepping forward, the click of his shoes sharp against the floor. "Sign, and no one gets hurt."
The shareholders recoiled. Walter collapsed back into his chair.
"Planning to kidnap the board, Mr. Oscar Caldwell?" Sophia's voice was ice. "Shame you didn't realize the Caldwell Corporation's security system was my design."
She snapped her fingers.
The lights went out.