“Productive morning.”
“Who?”
She pointed toward the front.
“The pink suit.”
His eyes widened.
“Meridian acquisition director’s wife?”
“Yes.”
“That seems unwise.”
“She hasn't discovered the full extent yet.”
He placed a tablet on the table.
“We have a larger issue.”
She sat.
“What changed?”
“Two directors requested postponement of tomorrow’s board vote.”
“Why?”
“They claim new information exists regarding your father's trust.”
Her expression hardened.
“What information?”
“A challenge to the voting control transfer.”
She stared.
“From whom?”
“Unknown counsel filed notice in Delaware at six twelve this morning.”
“Basis?”
He turned the tablet.
The filing claimed her father had signed an amendment nine months before death limiting his daughter’s voting control until age thirty-five.
She laughed once.
“That document doesn't exist.”
“We think it may now.”
She looked at him.
“Forgery?”
“Possibly.”
“Who has seen it?”
“Meridian’s outside counsel apparently referenced it in a private call before filing became public.”
That stopped her.
“Before?”
“Yes.”
“How long before?”
“Forty-three minutes.”
The room became very quiet.
“That means they knew.”
“Looks that way.”
“Or filed it.”
“Possibly.”
She looked toward the cabin door.
“Who onboard knows?”
“Meridian team.”
“How many?”
“Acquisition director is not onboard. His wife is.”
“Lawyers?”
“Two.”
“The gray-haired man across from me?”
“Yes.”
She nodded slowly.
“So this flight isn't only negotiation.”
“No.”
“It may be pressure.”
Her counsel continued.
“If the amendment is accepted temporarily, your voting control freezes.”
“Then the board can vote without my controlling block.”
“Yes.”
“Meridian gets the acquisition.”
“If three undecided directors switch.”
She leaned back.
Her father had warned her.
Not about Meridian.
About moments like this.
People become most polite when they are preparing to take something.
She looked at the stained cream outfit.
Maybe the wine really had been meaningless cruelty.
But timing made meaningless cruelty useful.
The socialite had tried to create a scene.
Perhaps hoping the Black woman would react.
Angrily.
Publicly.
In front of board advisers.
Maybe recorded.
A volatile heir.
Emotionally unstable owner.
Unfit to control a multibillion-dollar company.
She looked at her counsel.
“Any cabin cameras?”
“Security only.”
“Audio?”
“No.”
“Who controls recordings?”
“Flight operations.”
“Ours?”
“Yes.”
“Preserve everything from boarding.”
He understood immediately.
“You think the spill was staged?”
“I think we preserve before deciding.”
“Good.”
“Also pull every access log for trust documents.”
“Already requested.”
She smiled faintly.