Three days before the board meeting, Max initiated the next step.
Nicholas sat behind a stand of screens and sent the encrypted projection report onto Franklin Pierce's private financial briefing server. The packet included stock impact projections, risk modeling, and anonymized insider data pointing to Gregory's emerging scandal.
Max leaned on the back of Nicholas's chair, watching the status bar inched its way to 100%.
"It's done," said Nicholas.
The waiting game now began.
Across town, in his penthouse office, Franklin Pierce scanned the "urgent" email flagged by his trusted financial analyst. His face was impassive, but his mind was reeling.
He wasn't a loyalist to individuals—only to figures. And the figures were shouting disaster.
By noon, the quiet machinations were in motion inside NXT Systems. Pierce quietly scheduled private meetings with two other key board members: Meredith Chang and Victor Stone. Both were operators, both had reputations for keeping their portfolios in front of friendship.
Ellie monitored the live internal calendar updates. "They're mobilizing," she breathed, a hint of excitement creeping into her tone.
Max allowed himself a small nod. "Good."
Later that evening, in the deep recesses of the corporate intranet's hidden areas, Nicholas caught a string of encrypted conversations among Pierce, Meredith, and Victor.
Nicholas read aloud, ": 'Contingency discussions advised. Making a motion to suspend Gregory until internal review.'"
Ellie let out a slow breath. "That's massive."
"Not yet enough," said Max. "We want Samantha shaken up as well."
They constructed an independent leak—one that suggested Samantha's personal complicity with offshore accounts that were associated with Arden Holdings. Enough to suggest corruption but vague enough to plant seeds of doubt.
Nicholas routed the leak through a celebrity whistleblower platform known to trigger internal compliance alarms within NXT.
The effect was immediate. Samantha Blythe arrived the next morning at NXT, a professional mask worn from experience, but knowing glances were made behind her back about her peculiar rigidity. A shock compliance review had been called—whispers, doors closed, but deadly motive.
"She's bleeding," Max said, looking at the photo Ellie snapped from afar.
Nicholas pecked at his laptop. "Gregory's sources say he's preparing for a press conference to deny everything."
Max smiled coldly. "Ideal. The more he screams innocence, the more guilty he'll seem when we pull the trigger."
They were winding the spring, tension building, with just two days left.
The board was waiting.
The media was lurking.
The clock was ticking.
And Max Rothchild was waiting.