Chapter 6 - The Logistics of Revenge
The Maybach was waiting under the shade of an old banyan tree three blocks from the courtyard. The rain had started again, a fine, cold mist that turned the asphalt into a black mirror. Xia sat in the back seat, her chest heaving as she looked out the window at the neon signs of the cheap grocery stores.
"You terrified him," she said, her voice shaking. "My uncle looked like he was going to have a stroke when you mentioned the twelve percent interest."
"Your uncle is an amateur," Ethan said, his fingers typing a series of commands into his tablet. "He’s been skimming from his cooperative's employee insurance fund to cover the payments on his gold watch. On Tuesday morning, the state audit division will receive a certified log of his transactions. He won't have time to worry about your father's workshop because he’ll be trying to find a lawyer who accepts corporate bonds as bail."
Xia turned her head, looking at his profile against the dim light of the streetlamps. "Is that how you solve every problem? You just find the numbers that break people and push them?"
"The numbers don't break people, Xia," Ethan said, his tone perfectly even. "People break themselves. The numbers just show where the cracks are. Your family has been using your father as a shield for ten years. They let him take the debt for the workshop while they took the profits from the transport routes. I’m just restoring the balance sheet."
The car phone chirped. It was a private line, the ringtone a sharp, double-beep that made Secretary Chang look up from the front seat.
"Sir," Chang said, his voice tense. "It’s Vice-Chairman Vance. He’s called an extraordinary general meeting for ten o'clock tomorrow morning. They’ve filed an emergency motion to declare your position vacant based on the non-appearance clause."
Ethan didn't look up from his screen. "Tell him I’ll be there at nine-fifty. And tell the legal team to prepare the disclosure documents for the Singapore private equity transfer."
"Are they going to take the company?" Xia asked, her hand moving instinctively toward her pocket where her red marriage booklet was tucked. She didn't know why she was worried; she hated Dami Tech, hated the way her cousin talked about it, hated the way it seemed to swallow up everyone who came near it. But the thought of this man being pulled down by his own uncles made her feel as if the ground were shifting under her feet again.
"They can't take what they can't afford," Ethan said, turning his head to look at her. His eyes were softer now, or perhaps it was just the amber light from the dashboard, but the cold charcoal seemed to have a faint gold spark underneath it. "Tomorrow morning, you will come to the tower with me, Xia. You will wear the gray dress Chang sent to your apartment this afternoon. You will sit in the gallery, and you will hold the red booklet where the cameras can see it."
May you like
"Why?" she whispered.
"Because my uncle’s entire argument is based on the idea that I'm an unguided missile with no stability in the domestic market," Ethan said, his large hand reaching out to trap her wrist—not with violence, but with that same firm, undeniable weight she had felt when he was a beggar by the curb. "A married chairman can vote his grandmother's trust shares without the board's approval. You aren't just my wife tomorrow, Xia. You’re my majority."
