Marcus: The morning papers are out, Clara. You are on the front page of every financial magazine in North America.
Clara: Read me the headline.
Marcus: "The Vance Tech Heiress Reclaims Father's Empire In Epic Gala Showdown."
Clara: Simple. Accurate. I like it.
Clara stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of the top-floor penthouse executive suite, looking down at the city skyline below.
Her face had been patched up by a private doctor, but she refused to cover the faint scratch on her cheek with makeup.
Marcus: Why not cover the scar, Clara?
Clara: Because every board member who walks through that door needs to remember what happens when someone tries to back me into a corner.
Marcus: Julian is waiting downstairs in the lobby. Security says he has been sitting on the curb since five in the morning.
Clara: Has he asked for money?
Marcus: He asked if he could see you for five minutes. He claims he has nowhere to sleep because the bank foreclosed on the penthouse mansion.
Clara: Tell security to give him fifty dollars for a taxi to the nearest public shelter.
Marcus: Fifty dollars? That's surprisingly generous of you.
Clara: Make sure it comes out of his remaining severance balance. I don't give handouts to men who put hands on me.
The door to the executive office clicked open, and the senior board members filed into the room, looking pale and nervous.
Board Member A: Good morning, Chief Executive Officer Vance.
Clara: Sit down, gentlemen. We have a lot of work to do to repair the damage Evelyn caused.
Board Member B: We want to formally apologize for turning a blind eye to Evelyn's accounting practices, Clara. We had no idea the scope of the embezzlement.
Clara: You had an idea. You just liked the dividends she promised you from my father's reserves.
Board Member A: What are your plans for the board structure moving forward?
Clara: Effective immediately, every single one of you who signed off on Evelyn's offshore transfers will be resigning without a severance package.
Board Member B: You can't just fire the entire board of directors!
Clara: Check your email attachments. The stock proxy votes were finalized an hour ago. I hold seventy-two percent of the voting shares.
The directors exchanged terrified looks before quietly packing up their leather folders and standing up from the long mahogany conference table.
Clara: Leave your security badges on the table on your way out.
Board Member A: You're just like your father, Clara. Cold, ruthless, and brilliant.
Clara: My father was too kind to people like you. That was his only mistake. I won't make the same one.
As the former directors filed out of the room, Clara turned back to the panoramic window, watching the sun rise bright and clear over the city skyline.
Her phone hummed on the desk, showing a blocked caller ID message from the local detention center where Evelyn was being held.
Clara picked up the phone, looked at the screen for a brief second, and deliberately pressed the decline button.
Clara: I told you, Julian. Tomorrow you'll be begging for my forgiveness.
She placed the phone back on the desk, picked up her father's framed photograph, and smiled warmly for the first time all week.
Clara: The company is safe now, Dad. Nobody will ever take it away from us again.