Through the glass walls of the main boardroom, I could see the board members gathered around the long table.

Harrison stood at the head of the room, pointing to a digital chart on the screen.

Jonathan did not hesitate; he pushed the heavy glass doors open.

The sound of the hinges drawing back caused everyone in the room to turn.

Harrison stopped mid-sentence, his hand freezing in the air.

“Jonathan,” Harrison said, his voice dropping an octave. “This is a closed session.”

“Not anymore,” Jonathan said, walking to the center of the room.

Benjamin stepped forward and plugged his drive into the main media console.

“What is the meaning of this intrusion?” one of the senior board members demanded.

“I am here to present evidence of systematic embezzlement,” Jonathan said.

He clicked a button on the table console, and the screen behind Harrison changed.

Columns of numbers and foreign bank routing codes flashed across the display.

“These are the shell accounts Harrison used to divert fifty million dollars from the hotel acquisition fund,” Jonathan said.

The room erupted into quiet, urgent whispering.