“You are holding the entire future of the Whitmore Group in your hands.”

Nathan did not look up at his father.

His gaze was fixed on the forged signatures at the bottom of the page.

A small muscle in his jaw twitched under his tanned skin.

“This is a total fabrication,” Nathan said.

His voice was low, but it echoed clearly off the wet stone walls.

“It is a business decision,” Richard corrected him.

Richard reached out and took a thick leather folder from the tallest security guard.

He flipped it open, revealing a fresh stack of white papers.

The gold seal of the Whitmore family crest gleamed at the top of the first page.

“This is the master agreement,” Richard said.

He dropped the folder onto the small steel table in the center of the vault.

The loud metallic clang made me flinch.

“If you sign this, the board will name you Chief Executive Officer at nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

Nathan still did not look up.

“And what happens to the trust?” Nathan asked.

“The trust will be restructured under your sole name,” Richard said.