Chapter 9 - The Missing Chair
Ethan stood.
Brooke gasped.
Chad’s smile disappeared.
Isabella froze.
Not because Ethan could stand.
Slowly, yes.
Carefully.
But without help.
Conversations faded.
Someone dropped a fork.
Ethan took one step.
Then another.
The silence spread.
Brooke stared at him.
“You can walk.”
“For short distances.”
Chad stepped back.
Ethan looked at Marcus.
“The chair.”
“Documents?”
“Yes.”
Marcus swore under his breath.
Isabella pointed toward the west hallway.
“The event manager?”
“Yes.”
They moved.
Ethan used a cane Marcus handed him from a storage cabinet.
Every step pulled at muscles still rebuilding after months of rehab.
Victor was there.
So was the wheelchair.
And Martin Sterling.
Martin had the document compartment open.
Ethan stopped.
“Put them down.”
Martin turned.
His face was pale.
“Ethan.”
“Those are mine.”
Martin held the papers.
“Technically, they concern my company.”
“Technically, your company becomes mine at midnight.”
Martin’s jaw tightened.
“You stole from my chair.”
Marcus said, “That is a creative description.”
Ethan asked, “Who told you where the compartment was?”
Martin glanced at Chad.
Chad had been closer to Marcus’s audit materials than Ethan realized.
Isabella whispered, “He knew.”
Ethan looked at Chad.
“You were searching the chair.”
Chad raised his hands.
Martin snapped, “Enough.”
He looked at Ethan.
“You want Sterling? Fine. But if you take control tonight, two thousand employees wake up tomorrow inside a scandal.”
“You can contain it.”
“Meaning hide it.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Value for who?”
Martin’s eyes hardened.
“Don’t be naive.”
Ethan almost laughed.
The oldest insult powerful people use when someone refuses to become them.
Then Martin lifted one document.
“You need my signature on the patent release.”
Marcus went still.
Ethan had not known that.
May you like
Martin smiled.
Finally, he believed he had leverage.
