Chapter 229: Boardroom Prelude

Chapter 229: Chapter 229: Boardroom Prelude

Before the rest of the board members filed into the 50th-floor executive suite, the Chairman’s private inner office was locked in a tense, claustrophobic silence.

Richard Newman stood behind his desk, leaning both hands heavily on the polished mahogany. His eyes swept over Finn and Ray. The anger from earlier had settled into a cold, hard ache behind his temples.

"We have to come up with ten percent by two o’clock," Richard said, his voice gratingly quiet. "The best option on paper is a company-wide capital restructuring—diluting every shareholder’s stake equally across the board. That way, no single person takes a catastrophic hit."

He paused, letting the silence heavy in the air before adding, "If the board rejects a general dilution, then we have to pull it out of our own pockets. The three of us will have to figure it out."

Ray scoffed softly, twirling a high-end pen between his index and middle fingers. He didn’t even bother sitting up straight in his leather chair.

"Count me out," Ray said, popping his gum. "I hold a one-point-three percent personal stake in this firm, Dad. I’m not wiping out my entire life’s asset pool just because Sam couldn’t keep his hands to himself in a garage."

Richard’s gaze snapped toward his middle son. He understood the math—Ray’s slice was small to begin with, and taking from it would leave him with virtually nothing. But the sheer indifference in Ray’s tone set off a flare of temper in Richard’s chest.

"Shut your mouth if you’re not going to contribute anything useful," Richard growled, his knuckles turning white against the wood. "I don’t need your sarcasm right now."

Ray shrugged, unbothered, and leaned back, keeping his mouth shut.

Finn stepped closer to the desk, rubbing the back of his neck as he ran the numbers through his head. He looked up at his father, genuine confusion in his eyes.

"Dad... why don’t you just carve the ten percent directly out of your own thirty-three percent?" Finn asked softly. "Even if you drop to twenty-three percent, you’re still the single largest shareholder in Newman Enterprise Group by a wide margin."

Richard let out a harsh, dry breath through his nose. He looked at Finn like a teacher disappointed in a student.

"You’ve been in executive management for six years, Finn, and you still forget the core bylaws," Richard said grimly. "If the sitting Chairman’s personal holding falls below thirty percent, the family council has the automatic right to invoke a vote of no confidence and remove him. The moment I touch my thirty-three percent, I hand my neck to the board."

Finn swallowed hard, realizing his mistake. He quickly ran the remaining figures. "Okay... I hold four-point-six percent. Even if you took three percent from your stake to keep yourself at exactly thirty, and I threw in everything I have... we’re still short. We’d still need over two percent from somewhere else, and Ray isn’t budging."

"Which means we need the board to vote for a general dilution," Richard said, straightening his back and adjusting his cuffs. "Or we force their hands."

---

By two-fifteen, all twelve senior directors were seated along the oval mahogany table in the main boardroom. The atmosphere was stifling. Whispers rippled back and forth, cutting through the hum of the central air cooling.

Richard stood at the head of the long table, a imposing, unreadable wall. Finn stood slightly behind him to the right, clutching a leather folder of legal briefs, while Ray sat near the middle, looking like he was watching a play.

Richard cleared his throat. The room fell dead silent.

"Gentlemen," Richard began, his deep voice echoing against the floor-to-ceiling glass paneling behind him. "We are waiving the standard forty-eight-hour advance notice for this session due to an urgent, high-value strategic decision regarding our capital structure and raw material supply chain."

Mary Newman—a sharp-tongued older board member holding a seven percent stake—frowned, resting his elbows on the table. "An urgent session, Chairman? Our quarterly review isn’t for another three weeks. What strategic decision requires an immediate board authorization?"

Richard didn’t flinch. "Effective immediately, the executive committee is proposing a direct ten percent equity issuance to Golden Investments."

"Ten percent?!" Mary exclaimed, leaning forward with her hands flat on the table. "That’s four billion marks in equity, Richard! Golden Investments already holds five percent! Don’t forget that Jake Rivers owns 100% of Golden Investments. You give him ten percent more, and an outsider holds fifteen percent voting power! He’ll be our largest non-family shareholder!"

"We know the numbers, Mary," Finn interjected, trying to keep his voice steady despite the sweat slicking his palms. "But this agreement secures our raw steel allocations with the Meridian Group. Without it, our manufacturing plants stop receiving shipments by midnight Wednesday."

The directors exchanged uneasy looks. Everyone in the room knew how dependent their logistics empire was on Meridian’s steel.

Before anyone else could speak, a slow, deliberate clapping broke out from the end of the table.

Troy Newman—Richard’s younger brother, who held a massive thirteen percent personal stake—leaned back in his chair, a cold, mocking smile playing on his lips.

"Very moving, Finn. Truly," Troy said, his eyes locking onto Richard. "But let’s stop hiding behind corporate buzzwords like ’supply chain security,’ shall we? Why don’t you tell the board the real reason we’re sitting in this room on a Tuesday afternoon?"

Richard’s eyes narrowed into slits. "Troy. Mind your tone."

"No, I don’t think I will, big brother," Troy said smoothly, standing up and buttoning his jacket. He looked around at the other board members, playing directly to the room. "The real reason we are facing an ultimatum from Jake Rivers isn’t a trade dispute. It’s because Richard failed to discipline his spoiled youngest son! Sam went out, cornered Jake Rivers’ mother and sister in a public garage, and threatened them with hired muscle."

Gasps echoed down the table. Mary Newman’s mouth fell open in shock.

"And now," Troy continued, raising his voice to drown out any interruption, "Jake Rivers is coming for blood. And instead of fixing his own domestic mess, my dear Chairman brother expects all of us to sit here, bend over, and dilute our hard-earned shares just to shield his idiot kid from the consequences!"

Murmurs of sharp discontent swept across the directors.

"Is this true, Richard?" Mary demanded, her eyes wide with outrage. "You want us to sacrifice our stock value over a personal feud your son started?!"

"This is unacceptable!" another director barked. "We’re running a multi-billion-mark enterprise, not a private cleanup crew for the Chairman’s family!"

Troy watched the room turn against Richard, a wave of deep satisfaction washing over him. He had waited years for this. Troy had always coveted the Chairman’s seat, but he wasn’t stupid enough to sabotage the company to get it. He had waited for Richard to make a fatal misstep.

Now, the trap was set. If Richard tried to force the board to dilute their shares, they would vote him out out of spite. If Richard tried to pay the ten percent out of his own thirty-three percent stake, his holding would fall below thirty percent, automatically triggering the family council’s right to strip him of his title.

*You’re trapped, Richard,* Troy thought, his smile widening slightly as he kept his eyes on his brother. *Either way, you step down today.*

"So," Troy said, resting his hands on the table and leaning toward Richard. "If Golden Investments needs ten percent, I suggest the Chairman provides it from his own personal pocket. The rest of us will not be taking a single percentage point hit for Sam."

"Hear, hear!" another member shouted. "Cover it yourself, Richard!"

Finn looked panicked, his fingers gripping the edge of his folder so hard the cardboard bent. Ray, however, watched his father closely, noticing something the others missed: Richard wasn’t sweating.

Richard slowly closed his eyes, taking a deep, steady breath. When he opened them, the anger was gone. In its place was a cold, eerie calm. He even let out a small, quiet laugh.

"Well," Richard said softly, his voice carrying over the noise until the room gradually quieted down. "At least a moment like this shows you who actually has your back."

He glanced briefly at Finn and Ray, then turned his gaze straight onto Troy. Troy’s smile wavered for a fraction of a second, unsettled by the lack of panic in his brother’s eyes.

"You’re all so worried about your little slices of the pie," Richard said, stepping forward. "Fine. There will be no general dilution. The board will not be required to surrender a single fraction of a percent."

Mary blinked, caught off guard. "What?"

"All I need from this board right now," Richard continued smoothly, "is a formal authorization to transfer a ten percent equity block to Golden Investments Holdings, as per the emergency terms. How that ten percent is sourced will be handled strictly by the executive office."

Troy frowned, his mind racing. ’Is he insane? If he takes it from his own stake, he drops below thirty percent! Does he really think he can survive a confidence vote after this?’

Convinced Richard was simply committing executive suicide out of desperation, Troy gestured grandly to the table. "If the Chairman is willing to absorb the entire burden himself without diluting our shares, then I see no reason to hold up the supply chain. I vote to approve the transfer authorization."

"I agree," Mary chimed in quickly, relieved her own stock was safe. "Approved."

One by one, the directors raised their hands, eagerness replacing their earlier anger now that their personal assets were left untouched. Within two minutes, the authorization passed unanimously.

"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," Richard said, bowing his head slightly with a polite, empty smile. "Meeting adjourned."

As the directors began gathering their papers and talking amongst themselves, Troy lingered by his chair, watching Richard with a suspicious squint. ’He’s up to something. But the math doesn’t lie. Once those shares move tomorrow, he’s under thirty percent.’

Richard didn’t give Troy another glance as he walked out of the boardroom, flanked by Finn and Ray.

---

Meanwhile, at Apex Plaza, the bright afternoon sun cast crisp, angular shadows across the broad floor of Jake’s executive office.

Samuel Carter, senior partner at Blackwell & Carter, unbuttoned his suit jacket and placed a sleek leather briefcase on Jake’s desk. He unzipped it and pulled out a fresh stack of legal briefs.

"I heard the emergency board meeting at Newman Enterprise concluded about twenty minutes ago, Jake," Samuel said, a subtle, approving grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "The board voted unanimously to approve the ten percent transfer authorization. Their legal department has already signed off on the preliminary terms."

Jake sat back in his leather armchair, taking the document Samuel handed him. He casually flipped through the signature pages, his dark eyes scanning the legal clauses.

"Did Richard try to push for a company-wide dilution?" Jake asked smoothly.

"He proposed it, but apparently his younger brother Troy led a minor revolt among the directors," Samuel replied, leaning one hand on the edge of the desk. "The board refused to let their own shares be touched. They forced Richard to handle the ten percent transfer on his end."

Jake paused, his fingers resting on the paper. ’Richard let Troy back him into a corner? Unlikely. Doesn’t sound like the Richard from Adrian’s report. He wouldn’t give up control that easily unless he had another card to play.’

"Interesting," Jake murmured, shutting the folder with a light thud. "Regardless, as long as the ten percent clears into Golden Investments’ account by five tomorrow, their internal power struggles aren’t my concern."

"Indeed," Samuel agreed. "Your total stake will stand at fifteen percent. Additionally, the non-dilutable seat on their executive risk committee gives us full access to their internal audit ledgers."

"I’m not really interested in all that," Jake said. "The shares will come in handy in the future."

Alice stepped forward from the side of the room, holding her tablet.

"Mr. Rivers," Alice announced professionally, "Chairman Richard Newman’s executive secretary just sent over a formal invitation. They are requesting your presence at their executive assembly next Monday to sign the final stock certificates and take your seat in person."

Jake looked out the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the sun reflect off the glass spires of the financial district. A faint, cold smile appeared on his face.

"Confirm it," Jake said softly, his voice calm, clear, and absolute. "Tell them I’ll be there."

---