The Price of Indifference and the Fall of Elias King
“They don’t seem irrelevant to me,” I said. “They look like a forced hostile takeover. They look like blackmail.”
“You do not understand the business world,” he said. “You are out of your depth.”
“My father helped build King Enterprises,” I said, my grip tightening on the phone. “Your grandfather stole it from him. He threatened to ruin him.”
“That is a serious accusation,” Elias said.
“I have the signed documents right in front of me, Elias. I have the letters.”
I could hear his breathing, shallow and controlled.
“We need to talk,” he said. “In person.”
“We do,” I agreed. “But not on your terms. Not in your office.”
“Name the place.”
“The library on 42nd Street,” I said. “The main reading room. Tomorrow at noon.”
“I will be there,” he said.
“Do not bring your security team, Elias. If I see anyone else, I will send copies of these files to every major financial news outlet in the country.”
I did not wait for him to reply.
I pressed the red button and ended the call.
My hands were shaking violently now.