THE LAST WILL OF WALTER MARTIN

Marcus Sterling slammed his glass down onto the obsidian table, scotch splashing over the polished surface. He stood up, his face contorted in anger.

"Who the hell allowed you up here?!" Marcus barked, glaring at the tactical team. "Security! Get this woman out of my boardroom!"

The security operatives didn't move an inch. They stood behind Clara like an impenetrable wall of steel.

Arthur stepped forward, opening his briefcase and pulling out a thick, leather-bound document stamped with a shimmering crimson seal. He placed it directly in the center of the oval table.

"Pursuant to Article 4, Section 12 of the Martin Global Charter," Arthur announced in a loud, clinical voice, "Walter Martin has formally executed his irrevocable resignation as Chairman and Chief Executive Officer, effective as of 11:45 PM tonight."

Marcus smirked, a cruel, arrogant triumph washing over his face. "Finally. The old bastard died. Which means the emergency buyout clause is active. Gentlemen, call our brokers—"

"You didn't let Mr. Vance finish, Marcus," Clara spoke. Her voice was not loud, but it cut through the room with a lethal, absolute authority that made every man at the table freeze.

Arthur turned a page. "Section 13, Clause A: One hundred percent of Walter Martin’s controlling shares—totaling fifty-one percent of the voting equity—have been unconditionally transferred to the sole designated heir."

"He doesn't have an heir!" Marcus shouted, his eyes darting frantically between Arthur and Clara. "His son is dead!"

"His son is dead," Clara agreed smoothly, stepping up to the head of the table, placing both hands flat on the cool obsidian surface, and leaning in until she was inches from Marcus’s face. "But the daughter of the man you murdered in a private facility ten years ago is very much alive."