Martin slowly lowered himself into his leather chair. The color drained entirely from his face, leaving him looking like a freshly exhumed corpse in an expensive Italian suit.
“She… she owns the docks?” he whispered.
“Every single square foot of concrete,” Sarah said quietly. “And as of 9:15 this morning, when you had security walk her out of the building without thirty days’ written notice, you breached the corporate master lease agreement. The penalty clause for unauthorized termination of the property administrator is immediate repossession of all physical facilities within six hours.”
On the speakerphone, Heinrich Bauer let out a dry, humorless laugh.
“Good luck running your logistics empire out of a Starbucks parking lot, Mr. Vale. The board will accept your resignation via email by noon. Don’t bother packing your desk. We’ll have someone mail your things in a cardboard box.”
Part 4: The Inventory of Silence
By 2:00 p.m., the executive floor was as quiet as a churchyard on a Tuesday afternoon.
