Chapter 4 - The War in the Boardroom
By 8:00 AM the following morning, news of Evelyn Mercer’s emergency heart surgery had hit the financial outlets. The Mercer Global stock had dipped 2.4% in early trading.
Logan walked into the top-floor executive conference room at Mercer Global headquarters, his eyes bloodshot, his collar unbuttoned. He hadn't slept a single minute.
Sitting around the polished oval mahogany table were seven men and two women—the senior board members of Mercer Global. At the head of the table sat Richard Vance Sr., Logan’s uncle and the non-executive chairman of the board.
"Logan," Richard said, adjusting his gold cufflinks. "We heard about Evelyn. How is she?"
"She survived," Logan said, sitting down at his usual spot at the head of the table. "The doctors say she’ll recover in a few weeks."
"Good," Richard nodded, tapping a folder in front of him. "Then we need to address the restructuring of the family trust. With Evelyn's health declining, the board needs confirmation regarding the succession plan. The market is nervous, Logan. You’re thirty-eight, unmarried, and without an heir specified in the Mercer Charter. If something happens to you, the voting shares default to the hedge fund syndicate in Chicago."
Logan stared at his uncle. For ten years, this room had been his sanctuary. Today, looking at the sharp suits and the calculated expressions, he felt an overpowering wave of disgust.
"The succession is secure," Logan said flatly.
Richard paused. "Excuse me?"
"I have two sons," Logan announced, his voice carrying clearly across the room.
A collective murmur went through the board. Richard leaned forward, his brows furrowing.
"Logan, what kind of joke is this? Your divorce from Claire was finalized five years ago. Medical documentation was filed with the trust board stating—"
"The medical documentation was fraudulent," Logan interrupted, slapping a thick folder onto the center of the glass table. "Commissioned by my mother and executed by Dr. Marcus Harrison. My sons, Leo and Samuel Mercer, are four years old. They are my legitimate, biological heirs."
Richard’s face went pale. He reached out and picked up the papers, scanning them quickly. "This... this is a catastrophe. If the public finds out that Evelyn falsified medical records to void a marriage, the PR fallout—"
"I don't give a damn about the PR fallout, Richard," Logan said, standing up. His hands pressed flat against the table as he leaned over his uncle. "Effective immediately, I am liquidating 15% of my personal voting stock to establish an irrevocable trust for my children. And if any member of this board attempts to contact Claire or my sons, I will strip their board seats before the markets close today."
"Logan, be reasonable!" Richard snapped, rising from his chair. "You can't just bring a woman from West Seattle and two unvetted children into a multi-billion-dollar corporate structure overnight! The media will destroy her! They'll dig up her past, her family, her father's bankruptcy—"
"Her father went bankrupt because my mother engineered it!" Logan roared, his voice echoing off the reinforced glass walls.
The entire boardroom went dead silent.
Logan pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing Vance.
"Vance," Logan said into the receiver. "Cancel my afternoon appointments. Clear my calendar for the rest of the week."
"Sir?" Vance replied over the speaker. "What about the Chicago acquisition pitch?"
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"Let them wait," Logan said, looking around the room at the stunned faces of his executive team. "I have five years of work to undo."
He walked out of the conference room, leaving the board members staring at the documents scattered across the table.
