Chapter 205 The Chairman Holds the Line
Ricardo sat at the kitchen island. He held a tablet in his hands. An empty coffee mug sat near his elbow. He looked up when I entered the room.
"They are gone?" Ricardo asked.
"They are gone," I confirmed. I walked to the coffee maker and poured myself a cup. The black liquid burned my tongue, waking my senses. "Did you send the press release?"
"It went live across every major financial network ten minutes ago," Ricardo said. He slid the tablet across the marble counter. "The media is losing their collective minds. You just detonated a bomb in the middle of a hostage situation."
I picked up the tablet. The screen displayed the front page of the leading global financial chronicle.
A massive photograph of my face took up the top half of the page. Below it, the headline screamed in bold, black letters:
MINERVA HAYES CONFIRMS WHITMORE BLOODLINE. "I PUT MY FATHER IN A CAGE. I WILL PUT MY ENEMIES IN THE GROUND."
I scrolled down the article. Ricardo executed my exact words. I did not deny the leaked DNA test. I owned it. I admitted I was Thomas Whitmore’s biological daughter. I detailed the abuse my mother suffered. I exposed the hitmen Thomas sent to the slums to murder me.
"Julian thought the DNA was a weakness," I said. I set the tablet down. "He thought I would hide behind a legion of corporate lawyers and issue a 'no comment' while the stock bled out. He expected me to act like a victim."
"You acted like an executioner," Ricardo noted. He pulled up the stock market ticker on his phone. "The Johnston Group shares took a massive hit when Julian leaked the file yesterday. But look at the pre-market numbers now."
I looked at the small screen. The red downward arrows vanished. A steady stream of green numbers climbed the chart.
"They are buying the dip," I observed.
"They are buying the Chairman," Ricardo corrected. "The market hates uncertainty, Mina. Julian offered them chaos. You offered them absolute, ruthless stability. The investors do not care who your father is. They care that you possessed the cold-blooded intellect to lock your own father in a federal supermax prison to protect the company bottom line. They realize Julian is a boy playing a man's game."
My phone vibrated on the counter.
The screen displayed an unknown number. I knew who waited on the other end of the line.
I answered the call. I put the phone on speaker and set it on the marble island.
"You are insane," Julian Whitmore spat through the speaker. His smooth, practiced cadence was gone. A jagged edge of genuine panic laced his voice.
"Good morning, Julian," I said. I took a sip of my coffee. "Did you read the morning paper? The layout is quite striking."
"You confessed to corporate fraud on a global scale," Julian shouted. "The SEC will launch an investigation by noon. The Serrano Trust bylaws require a legitimate heir. You just handed me the keys to the empire."
"The SEC investigates financial deception," I countered. I leaned against the counter. "I did not deceive the market about the company finances. I kept a personal medical record private to protect my life from an abusive father. No judge in this country will convict a domestic violence survivor for using an alias to escape a predator."
Silence echoed on the line. Julian realized the trap.
"As for the Serrano Trust," I continued, my voice hardening into steel, "Alexander Johnston adopted me in spirit the day he handed me the reigns. You have blood, Julian. But blood is cheap. You spent your whole life hiding in Thomas Whitmore's shadow. The board will never hand the Chairman seat to a ghost."
"I am not a ghost!" Julian snarled. "I filed the injunction. The court date is set. I will take your shares. I will take your penthouses. I will leave you in the dirt."
"You will try," I said. I looked at the morning sun hitting the glass. "But you made a tactical error, Julian. You spread your forces too thin."
"What are you talking about?"
"Colombia," I stated.
A sharp intake of breath hissed through the speaker. I hit the nerve.
"You sent mercenaries into the jungle to extract Alexander Redford," I said. The cold void inside me expanded, freezing any remaining empathy. "You wanted a witness. You wanted to prove Tristan ordered a hit. But your men are going to die in that brush. My husband is on his way. He will gut your private army, he will bring his brother home, and then he will come for you."
"Your husband is a thug," Julian mocked, though the bravado wavered. "He cannot fight an entire tactical squad."
"He sank your entire shipping fleet in an hour," I reminded him. "He collapsed your textile mill. He is not a thug, Julian. He is a titan. And you just gave him a reason to hunt."
I reached out and ended the call.
I looked at Ricardo. The panic in Julian’s voice confirmed the threat. The war shifted from the shadows into the blazing light. Julian failed to destroy my reputation, so he would pivot. He would aim for a softer target to gain leverage before the court date.
I needed to secure the perimeter. I needed to become the mother bear.
"Call Marcus," I ordered.
"Marcus is in the hospital, Mina," Ricardo reminded me. "He took a bullet to the chest yesterday."
"Marcus has a phone," I stated. "Call him. Tell him I need his best men at Elias’s school. I want a four-man perimeter around the playground. I want a designated driver with an armored vehicle idling at the front gate."
"You think Julian will target the school?" Ricardo asked.
"Julian failed to break me in the press," I said. I carried my coffee mug to the sink. "He knows Tristan is out of the country. He thinks I am vulnerable. He will try to take my son."
I turned around. I faced the city. The sun illuminated the glass towers of my empire.
"Let him try," I whispered.