Chapter 9 - The Press Conference No One Expected
At 8:00 the next morning, every financial network carried the same headline.
CRESTVIEW ENTERPRISES IN CRISIS
At 8:15, Vivian announced a live press conference.
Barry called immediately.
“Don’t do this.”
Vivian stood backstage at Crestview’s Los Angeles media center.
“Why?”
“You’re exhausted.”
“So?”
“Charles wants you emotional.”
“I’m not emotional.”
“You sound emotional.”
Vivian smiled.
“That sentence used to work on me.”
Barry went silent.
She continued.
“For years, whenever I challenged you, you said I was emotional. Whenever I questioned Laurel, I was jealous. Whenever I asked about money, I was controlling.”
“Vivian—”
“You taught everyone around us to doubt me.”
“I know.”
“No. You know now because it failed.”
She hung up.
Malcolm approached.
“You ready?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Good answer.”
Vivian walked onto the stage.
Cameras flashed.
Reporters shouted.
She stood behind the podium.
No Barry.
No public-relations executive.
No carefully written corporate statement.
Just Vivian.
“My name is Vivian Alston,” she began. “Twenty-three years ago, I co-founded Crestview Enterprises.”
The room quieted.
“For most of those years, I allowed someone else to become the public face of what I helped build.”
She paused.
“That was my choice.”
Then she looked directly into the cameras.
“What happened afterward was not.”
Vivian confirmed the forensic audit.
She confirmed Barry’s suspension.
She confirmed unauthorized transfers.
She confirmed a criminal investigation involving Laurel.
But she did something Charles had not expected.
She admitted everything Crestview had done wrong before journalists could expose it.
“We failed in our internal controls.”
Reporters looked up.
“We gave too much power to too few people.”
She continued.
“I trusted individuals I should have questioned. That failure belongs partly to me.”
Malcolm watched from the wings.
Vivian did not hide.
She did not blame everyone else.
She told the truth.
Then came the question everyone expected.
“Mrs. Alston, are you mentally fit to lead Crestview?”
The room erupted.
Vivian looked toward the reporter.
“Yes.”
“Leaked recordings suggest otherwise.”
“Those recordings were edited.”
“How can shareholders trust you?”
Vivian stepped away from the prepared speech.
“They shouldn’t.”
Silence.
A reporter frowned.
Vivian continued.
“Not because I’m untrustworthy. Because no shareholder should blindly trust any executive.”
She looked across the room.
“Verify us.”
Screens behind her activated.
Crestview announced the appointment of an independent compliance committee, outside auditors, mandatory disclosure rules for executive transactions, and a separation of family voting interests from daily operating authority.
Analysts began reporting the details in real time.
The falling stock slowed.
Then a journalist shouted another question.
“What about your husband?”
Vivian paused.
“Barry Alston is suspended.”
“Are you divorcing him?”
The room became silent.
Vivian looked into the camera.
“Yes.”
Somewhere in Los Angeles, Barry watched his marriage end live on television.
Vivian felt no joy.
Only relief.
The press conference lasted forty-three minutes.
When she walked backstage, Zachary hugged her.
“You said it.”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel?”
Vivian considered.
“Hungry.”
He laughed.
For the first time all week, she laughed too.
Then a security guard approached.
“Mrs. Alston, we found something in your car.”
Vivian’s smile disappeared.
Police surrounded the vehicle.
A small box sat beneath the driver’s seat.
Inside was a syringe.
A handwritten note lay beside it.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED SICK.
The syringe contained the same substance Laurel had purchased.
Charles was still close.
And now he wanted Vivian afraid.
Instead, she became furious.
Security moved her to a safe residence.
Zachary objected.
“I’m staying with you.”
“No.”
“Mom.”
“You’re going to Uncle Donald’s.”
“Absolutely not.”
Vivian lowered her voice.
“Charles targeted Sofia because of the trust. He knows you helped expose Laurel. I need you somewhere secure.”
Zachary stared at her.
“You think I’m safer away from you?”
“Yes.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Zach.”
“No.”
His eyes filled.
“You were unconscious in your bedroom and I thought I was going to lose you.”
Vivian’s anger disappeared.
Zachary continued.
“I spent months collecting evidence because every adult around me kept pretending nothing was wrong.”
He wiped his face roughly.
“I’m not leaving you now.”
Vivian hugged him.
This time he did not pull away.
“Okay.”
That evening, Vivian and Zachary moved into a guarded coastal property owned by Donald.
At 1:17 a.m., Vivian woke to broken glass.
She sat up.
An alarm screamed.
Security lights illuminated the yard.
Zachary ran into her room.
“Mom!”
Gunshots sounded outside.
Vivian pulled him down.
Security officers shouted.
Then everything stopped.
Ten minutes later, the head of security entered.
“No intruder reached the house.”
Vivian exhaled.
“What happened?”
“A drone.”
“What?”
“They flew a drone into the bedroom window.”
Attached to it was a phone.
The screen was still playing a video.
Vivian watched.
Charles Wexler sat in a dark room.
He smiled into the camera.
“Hello, Vivian.”
Zachary swore.
Charles continued.
“You always believed rules protected you.”
He leaned closer.
“They don’t.”
Vivian’s hands tightened.
“You took Crestview from me once. You took my daughter’s future. You humiliated me.”
Charles smiled.
“So I built a better plan.”
The video ended with a photograph.
Barry.
Sitting in a chair.
Hands tied.
Blood on his shirt.
Zachary stopped breathing.
Vivian stared at the screen.
Charles had Barry.
May you like
And beneath the photograph appeared one final message.
BRING ME THE FOUNDER TRUST, OR ZACHARY LOSES HIS FATHER BEFORE SUNRISE.
