Joshua sat several rows back with Nancy, watching the room settle, saying nothing until the meeting was formally called to order. Hannah Varner stood first.
"Before this board addresses any further business," she said, her voice carrying clean and steady across the ballroom. "I move to invalidate the emergency bylaw amendment passed four nights ago on procedural grounds."
A ripple of murmurs moved through the crowd. Mason straightened in his seat.
"The amendment required a 2/3 vote of the full 11-member board," Varner continued. "Eight votes. It received six." She held up a printed copy of the bylaws, the relevant clause highlighted in bright yellow, visible even from the back rows. "This isn't a matter of interpretation. It's arithmetic. The amendment never met the legal threshold to pass, which means it was void the moment it was signed."
Nancy rose beside her, presenting the formal legal challenge already filed with the board secretary, walking the room through the vote count line by line. Nobody argued the math. Nobody could. The board secretary confirmed the ruling within minutes. The amendment was invalid. Joshua's ownership stake and his chairmanship were formally reinstated on the spot.
Venus's composed expression cracked for the first time. Her eyes darting toward Mason, waiting for him to stand, to object, to do something. He didn't move.
Joshua rose from his seat and walked to the podium. The same podium from the gala, the same room, the weight of the moment settling over the crowd exactly the way it had the first time he'd stood there.
"Thank you, Miss Varner," he said. Then he turned to face the room fully. "There's one more matter this board needs to address today, one that's far more serious than a miscounted vote."
He nodded toward Varner, who lifted a folder from beneath her chair and carried it to the front, handing it directly to the board secretary before turning to address the room herself.
"4 days ago," Varner said, "I received documentation from Donald Oliver, this company's senior controller, detailing a pattern of financial fraud spanning at least four years." She held up a page, the wire transfers and shell vendor names visible even at a distance. "Preston Mason authorized payments through vendor accounts that do not legally exist. Routed through the company's pension fund, skimming from disbursements meant for retired Holstead employees."
The room went utterly silent. Somewhere near the back, a reporter's pen scratched furiously against paper.
"These authorizations," Varner continued, holding up a second page, "bear Venus Holstead's signature. Whether she understood what she was signing is a separate question, but the paper trail is not in dispute."
Venus's face had gone white. She turned toward Mason, her voice barely a whisper. "Preston, tell them this isn't true."
Mason said nothing. His jaw worked once, twice, but no words came out. And in that silence, the entire room understood everything it needed to understand.
"Mr. Mason," Joshua said from the podium, calm and even, "Would you like to address the board?"
Mason stood abruptly, his chair scraping loud against the floor, and for a moment it looked like he might actually try to speak. Instead, he turned and walked fast toward the exit, his composure finally gone completely. Two security officers already alerted by Nancy ahead of time met him at the doors.
"Mister Mason," one of them said, "The board has asked that you remain until this session concludes."
The room watched in near total silence as Mason was escorted not out of the building, but to a private room down the hall to await formal questioning. The same slow, humiliating walk Joshua himself had once made off a plane, except this time surrounded by the very people whose trust he had spent years quietly stealing from.
Venus remained frozen beside the podium, alone now, the family name that had always shielded her suddenly meaning nothing at all in a room full of people who had just watched the truth walk in and strip her away in front of everyone.
The room didn't settle back into quiet so much as it shifted into a different kind of tension, sharper now, more focused. With Mason gone from the ballroom, the board reconvened without leaving their seats. The meeting folding directly into the next order of business as if the whole room understood there was no reason to wait.
The board secretary called for order. Joshua remained at the podium. Varner standing just to his side, the folder of evidence now resting on the table in front of the full board for anyone who wanted to examine it directly.
"This board has a decision to make," the secretary said, "regarding the removal of Preston Mason from his position as general counsel and regarding the continued operational role of Venus Holstead as chief executive officer given the evidence presented."
A board member near the end of the table raised a hand. "Do we have confirmation this evidence has been reviewed by outside counsel? I want to be certain we're acting on solid ground before we vote on something this serious."
"Confirmed," Nancy said, stepping forward with a stack of files. "Independent forensic accountants reviewed the wire transfers and vendor records 2 days ago ahead of this meeting. Their findings match exactly what's in front of you. Four years of pension fund disbursements systematically diverted through shell accounts, all authorized under Mr. Mason's signature."
"And Miss Holstead's signature appears on several of these authorizations as well," another board member added, flipping through the folder.
Venus sat rigid in her seat, staring straight ahead, no longer trying to defend herself. There was nothing left to say. Everyone in the room had already watched Mason walk out without denying a single word of it.