Chapter 9 - The Blood Dividend
The executive boardroom on the fiftieth floor of Kane Tower smelled of polished mahogany, expensive espresso, and unadulterated fear.
Twelve members of the board of directors sat around the massive sixty-foot obsidian conference table.
At the head of the table sat Marcus Sterling.
Sterling was seventy-one years old, with silver hair meticulously combed back, wearing a bespoke pinstripe suit and an air of aristocratic invulnerability.
On the projection screens lining the walls, the stock ticker showed Kane Holdings tumbling sixteen percent in pre-market trading.
"The rumors regarding Sebastian’s mental stability and the mysterious violence at his private properties cannot be ignored," Sterling declared, his voice carrying the smooth, synthetic warmth of a seasoned corporate predator.
"We have unconfirmed reports of gunfire at the Oakhaven estate last night."
"Sebastian Kane has failed to report to his executive duties for over twenty-four hours."
"Under Section Nine of the founding charter, the board holds the fiduciary duty to install emergency conservatorship."
Sterling looked around the table, his cold eyes making direct contact with each terrified director.
"I move that we suspend Sebastian Kane’s voting shares effective immediately and appoint Acheron Capital as our restructuring custodian."
Before the directors could raise their hands to vote, the heavy double oak doors at the end of the boardroom swung open with violent force.
The sound hit the room like a sonic boom.
Two private security guards stationed in the corridor tumbled backward onto the plush carpeting, disarmed and neutralized.
Sebastian Kane walked through the threshold, his charcoal overcoat open, his hands resting casually in his pockets.
The entire boardroom fell dead silent.
Directors gasped, several pushing their rolling chairs back in shock.
Marcus Sterling did not flinch, though his eyes narrowed into venomous slits.
"Sebastian," Sterling said smoothly, adjusting his silk tie.
"You are interrupting an emergency governance session."
"You are trespassing on property currently under corporate review."
"I own sixty-two percent of the voting shares of this company, Marcus," Sebastian said, his voice echoing with absolute authority as he strode down the center of the room.
"You cannot trespass in a house you built with your own hands."
"Your shares are subject to mental competency review, Sebastian!" Sterling snapped, his mask of civility beginning to slip.
"You are erratic."
"You are chasing phantoms and dragging this corporation into the gutter."
"He’s not chasing phantoms, Sterling," a second voice called out from the corridor.
The footsteps that followed were heavy, measured, and terrifyingly deliberate.
Dominic Cross stepped through the double doors, adjusting his silver cufflinks as he entered the light.
The breath was sucked out of the room in an instant.
Three older board members who had served alongside Arthur Kane in the 1990s shot to their feet, their faces draining of all color.
One elderly woman knocked her crystal water glass off the table, sending it shattering onto the floorboards.
"Arthur...?" one director choked out, clutching his chest.
"No, gentlemen," Dominic said, walking up to the table until he stood side by side with Sebastian.
"Arthur Kane has been rotting in hell for five years."
"I am the son he threw into the gutter thirty-four years ago."
Marcus Sterling gripped the edge of the obsidian table, his knuckles turning dead white.
"This is an absurd, theatrical fraud!" Sterling snarled, rising from his chair.
"Arthur Kane had one son!"
"This man is an imposter hired from the streets to stage an illegal corporate coup!"
Sebastian reached into his breast pocket and tossed a heavy manila folder onto the center of the table.
The folder slid across the polished stone, stopping directly in front of Sterling.
"Inside that folder is the certified DNA comparative analysis signed three hours ago by the Chief Medical Examiner of the state," Sebastian said calmly.
"Dominic Cross shares 99.98 percent of my genetic sequence."
"He is my identical twin brother."
"And beneath that report is the original holographic codicil to Arthur Kane’s private estate, retrieved from Julian Vance’s secret vault this morning."
Dominic leaned forward, placing both hands flat on the table, leaning his weight directly into Sterling’s face.
"Our mother Clara established an irrevocable blood trust prior to her convenient little accident on Blackwater Cliff," Dominic whispered, his voice vibrating with lethal intensity.
"Under that trust, if a second heir survived to the age of thirty, fifty percent of all voting shares automatically revert to the firstborn child."
"That means Sebastian and I control eighty-one percent of this entire room."
Sterling looked down at the documents, his lips twitching uncontrollably as his carefully constructed empire disintegrated before his eyes.
"You have no liquidity," Sterling hissed, trying to salvage his leverage.
"Acheron Capital holds your corporate bonds!"
"We called the debt at eight o'clock this morning!"
"You owe four hundred million dollars in non-performing notes by noon, or the banks seize Kane Logistics!"
Sebastian smiled.
It was a cold, merciless smile that promised total ruin.
"Acheron Capital was financed through an offshore account at the Bank of Geneva, wasn't it, Marcus?" Sebastian asked softly.
Sterling froze.
"How do you think Dominic funded his little return to the city, Marcus?" Sebastian continued, his voice dropping to a conversational murmur.
"He didn't use his own money."
"He hacked your secondary clearinghouse in the Caymans four months ago using the administrative master codes our father left in his personal ledger."
Dominic reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a digital tablet, sliding it across the table until it rested atop the legal folder.
"Every dollar Acheron used to short Kane Holdings was routed through an un-audited slush fund you stole from Charles Whitmore before you had him murdered," Dominic said.
The directors around the table gasped in horror, staring at Sterling as if he were a rabid animal.
"Federal agents from the Southern District are entering the lobby of this building right now, Sterling," Sebastian announced, checking his platinum wristwatch.
"They aren't here for Kane Enterprises."
"They are here for you."
Sterling’s eyes darted frantically toward the private executive elevator behind his chair.
He reached beneath the edge of the conference table, his hand clawing for the emergency panic button installed to alert his private security detail.
Before his finger could depress the switch, Dominic’s right hand shot across the table like an iron vise.
Dominic grabbed Sterling by his silk necktie, dragging the seventy-one-year-old billionaire across the polished obsidian stone until Sterling's face was pinned against the documents.
"Don't move, old man," Dominic snarled into his ear, his eyes burning with demonic fury.
"You spent thirty years helping Arthur erase my existence."
"You helped him cover up the blood on the rocks at Blackwater Cliff."
"If you breathe too hard, I will snap your neck before the feds clear the elevator lobby, and I will claim it was a legitimate Kane family dispute."
The double doors burst open again, but it was not private security.
Six federal marshals carrying tactical weapons entered the boardroom, followed by the Assistant United States Attorney.
"Marcus Sterling?" the lead agent demanded, his badge gleaming under the recessed lighting.
Dominic released the tie with disgust, letting Sterling collapse backward into his executive chair like a sack of wet rags.
May you like
"He’s all yours, gentlemen," Sebastian said, adjusting his cuffs without looking at the agents.
"He has a great deal of our family's history to explain to the grand jury."
