Chapter 94: The Shark In The Glass Tower
At the same time that the Aurelia Capitals board meeting was taking place, another high-stakes meeting was taking place at the Meridian Tower.
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The boardroom on the 51st floor of Meridian Tower felt more like a tomb than the nerve center of a multi-billion mark empire. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, the morning fog clung to the spire, but it couldn’t hide the flickering red lights of the news tickers on the buildings across the street. Every headline was a variation of the same theme: Rivers Family Scandal Deepens and Meridian Group Stocks Plunge.
Darius Rivers sat at the head of the long mahogany table, his hands folded neatly in front of him. To any outsider, he looked like a statue of stoic resilience, but internally, his chest felt like it was being constricted by a lead band. He could feel the eyes of the board members—men he had known for decades—drilling into him with a mixture of fear and opportunistic hunger.
It wasn’t just a simple case of personal misconduct. Paul had been the acting chairman, eager to prove his worth, when he was approached with what seemed like a golden opportunity: a massive shipment of rare art and collectibles for the Meridian Gallery. He had signed the papers, bypassed the usual third-party audits to "speed up the process," and authorized the transport. But the authorities hadn’t found paintings or sculptures. They had found over a billion marks’ worth of illegal drugs hidden within the crates. The group was now being investigated for international trafficking, and the bail alone was draining their liquid reserves.
Directly across from him, Julian Sterling was the only person in the room who looked like he was enjoying himself. He was lean, dressed in a charcoal-blue suit that cost more than a mid-sized sedan, with a silver silk tie that shimmered under the recessed LED lights. He wasn’t sitting; he was reclining, a predator comfortably settled in a high-backed leather chair. He currently held 16% of the group, but his influence felt much larger.
"The silence is deafening, Darius," Sterling said, his voice smooth and carrying a subtle, mocking edge. "But then again, the sirens outside are doing all the talking for us. Have you seen the latest reports? The ’billion-mark shipment’ is all anyone is talking about. Investors aren’t just selling; they’re fleeing. The Meridian Group isn’t just leaking oil—the engine is on fire."
Beside Sterling sat Director Vance, a portly man with thinning hair and a nervous twitch in his left eye who represented a collective of smaller institutional investors. He cleared his throat, his voice trembling. "Julian is right, CEO Rivers. We called this emergency meeting to discuss damage control, but there is no controlling this. Paul’s... incompetence... has wiped billions off our market cap. The shareholders are demanding accountability. They’re demanding you step down."
’Vance was always a coward,’ Darius thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. ’He’s already been bought. I wonder what Julian promised him. A seat on the new board?’
Sterling leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Let’s look at the math, shall we? I hold 16%. Jade Dragon Capital holds 21%." He gestured toward a man sitting at the far end of the table—Zhao Wei, a representative of the massive Chinese investment firm.
Zhao Wei was a man of few words, dressed in a minimalist black suit. He hadn’t touched his water. He hadn’t even blinked during Vance’s outburst. He had already made it clear to Sterling: as long as Jade Dragon’s dividends remained untouched and the transition was stable, they would stay neutral. In a room like this, neutrality was a death sentence for the incumbent.
"The rest of the minority holders are already signing over their proxies to me," Sterling continued, his grin widening. "You hold 53%, Darius. It’s a beautiful number. Or it was, until it became a target. Right now, that 53% is worth half of what it was last week. By Monday, it’ll be worth a quarter."
Sterling stood up and walked slowly toward the window, looking out over the city. ’Once I have his shares,’ Julian thought, ’I merge Rivers Construction into Sterling Infrastructure. I take the Steel Refinery. Stuart Sheele thinks he’s the king of the industry just because he has the biggest real estate portfolio? We’ll see how well his buildings go up when I’m the one controlling every ton of steel and every bag of cement in the country. I’ll choke him out within two years.’
"I’m offering you a way out, Darius," Sterling said, turning back toward the table. "Sell me your 53% now. I’ll pay you 20% above the current—admittedly depressed—market price. It’s a pittance compared to last month, but it’s enough to ensure Paul can go start his own company and that you can retire in peace before the regulators start looking into how deep the rot goes in this family."
Darius finally spoke, his voice deep and raspy. "You’ve spent a lot of time fanning these flames, Julian. You think I don’t know who tipped off the press about Paul’s shipment that night? You think I don’t see the fingerprints of Sterling Infrastructure all over the short-sellers’ reports?"
"The truth doesn’t care about fingerprints," Sterling countered. "The fact is, your son is a liability, and your family legacy is a sinking ship. The board wants you to step down. I want to buy. It’s the only logical conclusion."
Director Vance nodded vigorously. "Darius, please. Think of the employees. Think of the refinery. If we don’t announce a major shift in leadership and a capital injection from a stable partner like Sterling, we won’t survive the week."
’Stable partner,’ Darius thought bitterly. He felt a strange, cold comfort in a secret Sterling didn’t know. His father, Robert Rivers, had been a man of immense foresight. Years ago, Robert had realized that putting the entire family legacy into one basket was a mistake. He had secretly restructured the ownership of the Meridian Hotel, the Crown, the Brewers, the Gallery, and Faceup. The Meridian Group—the entity they were sitting in—only owned 30% of those assets. The rest were held in a private trust meant for Ryan’s children, Jake and his sister.
Sterling thought he was buying a kingdom. He didn’t realize he was mostly buying the refinery and a construction company that was about to face a nightmare of litigation.
"I won’t hear your terms, Julian," Darius said, his voice gaining a sudden, sharp clarity. "I am the CEO of the Meridian Group. My father built this tower, and I will not be the one to hand the keys to a man who uses his own children’s future as a bargaining chip."
Sterling’s expression soured, the charm replaced by a cold, predatory arrogance. "You’re being emotional, Darius. It’s pathetic. Look around you. Who is left to support you? Zhao? Vance? They’re just waiting for the ink to dry."
’They think I’m alone,’ Darius thought, his mind briefly drifting to Jake. He knew Jake was meeting with the others. He didn’t know the details, but he knew the look in his nephew’s eyes. It was the same look Robert used to have before he broke a competitor. ’Julian thinks he has me cornered, but he’s so focused on my throat that he isn’t watching his own back.’
"The meeting is over," Darius said, standing up. "We are here to discuss a media strategy, not a liquidation. If you have nothing to contribute to the stabilization of the stock, you can leave."
Sterling laughed, a dry, harsh sound. "Fine. Hold onto your pride, Darius. Watch it burn. Every hour you wait, the price drops. I’ll stay in the city. I want to be close by when you finally realize that 53% of nothing is still nothing."
Sterling signaled to his assistant and walked out, his footsteps echoing with an air of absolute victory. Vance scurried after him, leaving the room in a state of fractured silence.
Zhao Wei finally looked up, his eyes meeting Darius’s. "You have seventy-two hours, Mr. Rivers. After that, Jade Dragon will vote with the majority. We do not like fire. We like profit."
As the room cleared, Darius sank back into his chair. He looked at the empty seats, the weight of the "drug incident" and the falling stock numbers pressing down on him. He picked up his phone and sent a single, short message to Jake.
’He’s moving faster than we thought. He wants the shares by Monday. He’s using the billion-mark seizure to bury us.’
Darius waited, his heart hammering against his ribs. A few minutes later, his phone buzzed.
’I know,’ the reply from Jake read. ’Everything is already in motion. Let Sterling have his laugh now, Uncle. He won’t be laughing next week.’
Darius felt a surge of adrenaline. He quickly typed back: ’What is going to happen, Jake? How can we stop the shorting? The board is turning.’
A second message appeared almost instantly.
’Sit back and relax, Uncle. Don’t sign anything. I’ve got this.’
Darius stared at the screen, a flicker of hope finally cutting through the darkness. He looked out over the city, and for the first time that day, he didn’t feel like he was standing on the edge of a cliff. He felt like he was watching a storm roll in—one that wasn’t coming for him, but for Julian Sterling
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