The day of the all-shareholder meeting had finally arrived, bringing with it a suffocating sense of finality. Bobo had dressed up specifically for the occasion, shedding her comfortable, familiar work attire. Instead of the loose researcher’s lab coat she usually wore, a garment that made her feel capable and in control, she had donned a sharp, smart grey suit. Her hair was tied up in a tight, severe bun.
She felt like she was wearing armor for a battle she was already destined to lose. With each step she took down the long corridor toward the boardroom, she was forcing herself to take slow, deep breaths to keep her heart from hammering out of her chest.
Despite the arrogant warning from Ramon the day before, she hadn’t simply rolled over. She had been awake all night, her eyes red and stinging, frantically trying to see if there was absolutely anything she could do to salvage her life’s work. Her desk at home was littered with empty coffee cups and scattered legal documents.
She had made dozens of calls to industry contacts, submitted emergency reports to regulatory boards, and practically begged for help from anyone who would listen. In the end, the most crushing blow had come from her own legal counsel. It was her own lawyer who had called her at three in the morning, his voice heavy with exhaustion, giving her the bleak, professional advice to just give up and walk away with whatever dignity she had left. The math simply wasn’t on her side.
Yet, here she was. She was here, and she wanted to fight. Even though she didn’t know how to win, or if there was even a viable path forward anymore, the stubborn spark in her chest refused to let her surrender without looking them in the eye.
When she pushed open the heavy double doors and entered the boardroom, the layout was exactly the same as the previous nightmare. Everyone was present and accounted for, including Sir Rum, who looked entirely too comfortable, and Ramon, who wore a sickeningly triumphant smile.
The only difference in the room was a piece of hardware. Placed prominently at the far end of the long mahogany table was a large computer screen, which had yet to be connected. She imagined that was where the elusive Chairman of the Billion Bloodline Group would call in from to deliver the final nail in her coffin.
Walking with as much poise as she could muster, she sat down in her seat at the head of the table and cleared her throat, refusing to break eye contact with Ramon.
"Alright, are we all ready?" Ramon asked, not even bothering to hide his eagerness. He clapped his hands together once. "Let’s connect with the Billion Bloodline Group’s representative before we proceed with the formal proposals that will be happening today."
A technician tapped a few keys, and the computer screen flickered to life. The image stabilized, and a man appeared on the monitor. He was seated in a dimly lit office, and heavily obscuring his features was a stylized mask that covered his entire face.
"Are you present and able to hear us, Mr. Chairman?" Ramon asked, leaning forward.
"I am," Max answered, his voice slightly distorted by the mask’s built-in modulator.
"Excellent. Well, let’s make this quick, shall we? I’m sure we are all very busy people with places to be," Ramon said, pulling a thick stack of papers toward him. "There has been a formal request submitted to appoint a new CEO and Chairman of the board. The proposals also include a variety of immediate changes detailed in the packets in front of you, specifically regarding where the company’s funding should be reallocated, and the future operational direction of the facility."
Ramon smirked at Bobo. "But I’m sure you don’t need to read through all the boring legalities. We all know why we are here. So, let’s have a simple show of hands. Who accepts the proposal to transfer leadership?"
Without a single moment of hesitation, the arms around the table shot up. All of the traitorous board members raised their hands high. Sir Rum raised his hand with a lazy flick of his wrist. Out of everyone physically in the room, only Bobo’s hands remained flat and white-knuckled on the table.
"The physical majority is noted," Ramon said, his eyes practically gleaming with victory. He turned his attention back to the monitor. "And Mr. Chairman from the Bloodline Group, since you are attending virtually and are being recorded for the official minutes, please just speak clearly into the microphone about your vote."
There was dead silence.
For a long, agonizing moment, the masked man on the screen didn’t move. Ramon furrowed his brow, looking at the screen and wondering what the holdup was. He glanced at the technician.
"Is there a connection issue?" Ramon asked, a hint of annoyance creeping into his voice.
"No," Max finally answered, the distorted voice echoing through the boardroom speakers. He slowly looked up into the camera. "There’s no connection issue on my end. I was just checking something on my phone. An alert from my bank."
Max adjusted his posture. "I have to state for the official record, Miss Bobo, that your recent payment has been fully received. Furthermore, the contract has been signed and validated stipulating that this transfer of money is simply a personal gift to our organization, and is in no way, shape, or form the sale of any of my shares."
Hearing those specific words, the smugness instantly vanished from Ramon’s face. His heart began to beat louder against his ribs. What was going on?
"Wait, wait, wait!" Ramon shouted, standing up from his chair, his hands slamming onto the table. "Are you sure about this, you idiot?! We already sent you the money! We already had a rock-solid deal in place!"
"Right, we did have a deal," Max said, his tone entirely conversational, as if they were discussing the weather. "And the specific terms of that deal were for you to send us your money first. And from there, the second part of the agreement could come into play, my holding of the shares as collateral to make sure you guys don’t try anything underhanded with us."
Max chuckled, a dark, mechanical sound. "Well, we got your money. It cleared beautifully. And then, I also made a separate deal with Bobo for her money, in exchange for my vote today."
The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"So, to tell you the complete truth," Max continued smoothly, "I got both of your money. And now, holding all the cards, it’s entirely up to me to decide how this plays out. I do want to say, though, thank you, Ramon. Thank you for pushing her into this desperate position. By doing so, it seems my group got a massive influx of free money out of all this corporate drama."
Behind the mask, Max’s eyes were cold and calculating. What mattered to him the absolute most in this entire volatile situation was capital. At some point in the near future, the Billion Bloodline Group was going to have to face the Gilt Rats in an all-out turf war anyway. It was inevitable.
Perhaps, with how much trouble the Bloodline Group had given them recently, the Gilt Rats would leave them be for a short while, but for how long? Peace was an illusion. And there was something else the Gilt Rats clearly wanted, something that required massive capital: the research facility itself.
Max had accurately guessed that this hostile takeover was most likely a play to secure the facility’s funding to mass-produce the dangerous exoskeletons they had created. If the Gilt Rats succeeded today, they would become an unstoppable localized threat.
So, there was a clear strategic choice. Leaving the Gilt Rats to their own devices now would allow them to become as strong as they ever would be. Conversely, why not play both sides, drain their financial resources, take Bobo’s desperation money, and in return, ensure that Max’s own group would now be stronger and wealthier than ever? It was the perfect preemptive strike.
"If you do this, do you honestly think you’ll be let off?!" Ramon screamed, his face turning a blotchy, furious red. The polished researcher facade had completely shattered. "We control everyone in this city! You won’t be able to own a single place, a single building! We will systematically take down everything you have! And I swear to god, I’ll kill you myself!"
As the violent threats continued to echo loudly through the speakers, Max simply let out a loud, exaggerated sigh.
"You know, this helmet is actually getting a bit stuffy," Max claimed, ignoring the screaming man entirely. "And for what I have to say next, I think I should say this face-to-face."
Max reached up, placed his hands on the sides of his heavy mask, and lifted it off. He set it down casually out of frame, finally revealing his face and his distinct, striking red hair to the camera.
In the boardroom, there was a sharp, audible gasp. It came right out of Bobo’s mouth the second she saw exactly who was sitting on the other side of that screen. Her eyes widened to the size of saucers.
"It can’t be..." she whispered, her mind struggling to process the revelation.
"Now, let me make this official declaration for your meeting minutes," Max claimed, his real voice cutting through the remaining tension like a razor blade. "My voting power is going with whatever Bobo Stern wishes to do with this company. And as for you guys..."
Max leaned directly into the camera lens, his red hair catching the light, his eyes burning with a dangerous intensity.
"It doesn’t matter what you say from now on. Because as of this exact second, I am declaring an official war between the Billion Bloodline Group and the Gilt Rats. You had this coming to you for a long time. And as for you saying you’re going to kill us... well, I would really like to see you try."