Chapter 8 - The Proxy Shift
Nathan’s office smelled of stale coffee and printer toner when Aaron and I walked in shortly before noon. Nathan didn't look up from his desk immediately; when he did, his eyes flicked from Aaron’s crumpled suit to the leather portfolio clutched tightly in my hands.
"Mr. Prescott," Nathan said neutrally, leaning back in his leather chair. "I didn't expect to see you here voluntarily."
"He’s not here to negotiate a divorce settlement," I said, taking a seat across from Nathan’s desk while Aaron remained standing near the door, looking like a man waiting for a sentencing hearing. "He’s here to assign his remaining voting shares in Prescott Global to my personal holding trust."
Nathan’s eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. He looked at Aaron. "Is this true, Mr. Prescott? Do you realize what an irrevocable proxy assignment means? You will effectively surrender all voting control over your family's company."
Aaron swallowed hard, his hands gripping the back of an empty chair. He looked at me, searching my face for some remnant of the wife who used to greet him at the door with a smile. Finding nothing but absolute resolve, he let out a long, defeated breath.
"If I don't sign," Aaron said quietly, his voice hollow, "Vance is going to have the board file criminal negligence charges against me by Monday morning. I'm already ruined. At least this way... at least they don't win entirely."
"They won't win at all if we play this right," I said, opening the portfolio and sliding two documents across the mahogany desk. "Sign on page four and initial the addendum regarding the 1994 buyout liabilities."
Aaron walked forward, picked up the pen, and signed without reading another word. The scratch of the nib against the paper sounded uncomfortably loud in the quiet room.
When he finished, he set the pen down and looked at me. "And now?"
"Now," I said, standing up and sliding the signed papers into my folder, "you go home, pack whatever hasn't already been boxed up, and wait for Nathan's instructions on when to appear for your deposition. You are no longer a principal in this fight, Aaron. Stay out of the way."
He hesitated, as if he wanted to say something else—an apology, an explanation, a plea for something salvageable—but the look in my eyes stopped him. He turned and walked out of the office, the heavy oak door clicking shut behind him with quiet finality.
Nathan watched him go, then turned his gaze back to me.
"You just acquired twenty-eight percent of Prescott Global’s voting stock, Claire, combined with your stake in Sterling Capital," Nathan said, whistling softly. "You now effectively control the board's quorum."
"Which means Richard Vance Jr. is going to realize he’s been outflanked the moment his corporate filings hit the registry this afternoon," I said, walking over to the window and looking down at the Boston traffic below.
"What’s your next move?" Nathan asked, pulling a yellow legal pad toward him. "Vance still thinks he holds the upper hand with those subsidiary asset transfers. If we go to Judge Harrison tomorrow morning with just the proxy assignment, she’ll unfreeze the corporate accounts, but Vance will find another loophole."
"We aren't waiting for tomorrow morning," I said, turning back around. "We're going to his office."
Nathan stopped writing. "Vance’s office? Claire, that’s a hostile environment. He has legal counsel on retainer and security downstairs."
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"Let him have them," I said, buttoning my coat. "Richard Vance Sr. hid behind corporate paper for thirty years, and his son thinks he can do the same. It's time to remind them both what happens when you wake up the people who actually own the foundation."
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