Chapter 5 - The Sabotage at Whitaker Global
By Monday morning, the atmosphere at Whitaker Tower was tense.
Grant sat in his glass-walled penthouse office on the eightieth floor, reviewing the financial reports from the northern industrial plant. The conveyor system failure wasn't an accident—his security team had uncovered evidence of deliberate mechanical tampering. Someone was trying to sabotage the logistics line to force a drop in Whitaker Global’s stock price before the upcoming quarterly board vote.
His door opened, and his chief legal officer, Richard Hayes, stepped inside holding an iPad.
“Grant,” Richard said grimly. “We have a problem.”
Grant didn't look up from his desk. “Did the union file a grievance?”
“No,” Richard said, sliding the iPad across the dark oak wood. “Someone leaked a video from a elementary school cafeteria in Queens on social media three hours ago. It already has two million views.”
Grant picked up the tablet.
The screen showed a high-definition video recorded from Table Three at St. Jude’s Elementary School—the very moment Grant had confronted Mrs. Vance’s husband. The caption read: "BILLIONAIRE CEO GRANT WHITAKER CLAIMS NIGHT CLEANER IS HIS SECRET FAMILY AT LOCAL SCHOOL PARTY."
Grant’s eyes darkened. “Who filmed this?”
“We suspect it was the woman’s husband,” Richard replied. “He owns a failing logistics company that applied for a subcontract with us last month and was rejected. He’s trying to use this as leverage to embarrass you before the board meeting.”
Grant stood up, walking to the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking Manhattan. “Where is Elena Collins?”
“She’s downstairs in Human Resources right now,” Richard said nervously. “Corporate Communications is advising an immediate press release denying any relationship and terminating her cleaning contract to prevent a stock fluctuation.”
Grant spun around so fast the air seemed to crackle.
“If anyone in HR so much as hands her a dismissal letter,” Grant snapped, his voice thunderous, “I will clear out the entire legal and human resources department by noon today.”
Richard went pale. “Grant, the board of directors—especially Marcus Sterling—is going to call an emergency meeting! Sterling has been looking for any excuse to challenge your voting control. He’ll paint this as a lapse in professional judgment!”
“Let him try,” Grant said, pulling his suit coat on. “Where is she?”
Two floors down in the HR reception room, Elena sat on a stiff leather sofa, clutching her handbag tightly to her chest. She had seen the news on her phone during her morning subway ride. She was shaking, terrified that her life, her job, and her daughter’s safety were about to be destroyed by the media circus.
The heavy glass doors of the HR suite flew open.
Grant walked inside, completely ignoring the stunned HR managers who stood up from their desks. He walked straight to Elena, stopped in front of her, and extended his hand.
May you like
“Elena,” Grant said softly. “Come with me.”
Elena looked at his hand, then up at his strong, resolute face. Without a second thought, she placed her small hand in his, letting him lift her to her feet and lead her into his private executive elevator.
