“You should speak with your attorney first.”
Victoria blinked.
“You're telling me to protect myself?”
“Yes.”
“After what I did?”
“Procedure should not depend on whether I like you.”
Victoria laughed softly.
“That feels pointed.”
“It is.”
She took that in.
Then nodded.
By five, Maya returned to headquarters.
Not the glass tower people imagined.
Northstar’s corporate office occupied four floors of an old brick building outside Pasadena.
Maya had resisted moving.
The board hated parking.
She liked that too.
Her chief legal officer, Elena Park, waited in the conference room.
Forty-eight.
Korean American.
Former healthcare prosecutor.
Unflappable.
She had printed the advisory agreement.
“I hate him.”
Elena said.
Maya sat.
“You haven't even said hello.”
“Hello.”
Elena pointed at Nolan’s signature.
“I hate him.”
“Professional analysis?”
“Yes.”
Maya read.
“This isn't valid.”
“No.”
“He cannot grant equity.”
“No.”
“He promised board consideration.”
“Which is legal.”
“He implied founder consent.”
“Which is not necessarily criminal but spectacularly stupid.”
Maya leaned back.
“What about restructuring deck?”
Elena’s expression changed.
“That concerns me more.”
“Why?”
“Because two board members knew.”
“Which?”
The same names Richard gave.
Maya exhaled.
“Of course.”
Elena continued:
“And your CFO received a calendar invite.”
“Did he attend?”
“No record.”
“Ask.”
“I already did.”
Maya smiled faintly.
“That's why I pay you.”
“You pay me because everyone else scares you.”
“Also true.”
Elena slid another page across.
“There's more.”
Maya read.
An internal complaint.
From Dr. Nina Patel.
Three months earlier.
SUBJECT: MEDICAL INTERFERENCE WITH VIP CLIENT PROTOCOL.
Maya’s eyes narrowed.
“Why haven't I seen this?”
“It went to operations.”
“Not legal?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Marked service complaint rather than clinical safety.”
“By?”
“Nolan’s office.”
Maya stared.
The complaint alleged a VIP client demanded sedation for a healthy dog to make air travel easier.
Patel refused.