Chapter 4 - The Boardroom and the Past
The thirty-fifth floor of Cole Enterprises offered a panoramic view of the Chicago skyline, gleaming like a monument to unbridled ambition and corporate supremacy.
Nathan sat at the head of the obsidian conference table, listening impatiently as his chief operating officer, Richard Sterling, droned on about quarterly acquisition targets in the garment manufacturing sector.
"The textile holdings in the lower west district are yielding a ninety-four percent profit margin, Nathan," Richard said, sliding a thick leather portfolio across the table. "By streamlining subcontractor agreements and keeping overhead minimal—specifically by outsourcing hand-finishing work to independent contractors in residential zones—we’ve maximized returns beyond projections."
Nathan didn't open the portfolio. He stared out the floor-to-ceiling glass window, watching the tiny ants of traffic move along the frozen streets far below. The words independent contractors in residential zones hung in the air like a foul odor.
"Cut the subcontractors, Richard," Nathan said quietly.
Richard stopped mid-sentence, blinking in confusion. "Excuse me? Cut the subcontractors? Those sweatshop networks are the backbone of our low-cost inventory line. If we eliminate them, production costs will spike by at least fifteen percent."
"I said cut them," Nathan repeated, turning his head slowly to fix Richard with a cold, piercing stare. "Audit every single residential sewing contract tied to our supply chain. If we are profiting off children working twenty-hour shifts in condemned tenements, I want out of that business today."
Richard’s face tightened with corporate indignation. "Nathan, you’re letting emotion cloud your judgment. This is business. This is how empires are built! You didn't care about where the thread was sewn ten years ago when you were building this company from the ground up."
"Ten years ago, I didn't know the names of the people whose lives I was stepping on," Nathan snapped, standing up from his chair with a sudden, controlled fury that made the seasoned executive flinch. "Starting today, Cole Enterprises is launching a full-scale philanthropic housing initiative for every low-income tenant in our residential portfolio. Rent freezes for families with medical crises. Free childcare support. And full compliance investigations into every manufacturing partner we use."
Before Richard could argue further, the heavy boardroom doors swung open.
Standing in the doorway was a tall, silver-haired man in an expensive Brioni suit—Arthur Vance, Nathan’s primary financial backer and the majority shareholder of Cole Enterprises.
Arthur smiled, a cold, predatory expression that didn't reach his eyes. "Well, well, well. Our golden boy is developing a conscience. How touching. Tell me, Nathan... does this sudden humanitarian streak have anything to do with the fact that you spent the morning moving a destitute woman and her brat into a private medical clinic?"
May you like
Nathan’s blood ran cold. He gripped the edge of the conference table. "How do you know about that?"
Arthur walked slowly into the room, his leather shoes clicking rhythmically against the marble floor. "Nathan, I own half the municipal databases in this city. When a high-profile billionaire starts dispatching private medical vans to slums in the dead of night, people notice. Especially when those slums happen to sit on land targeted for our next billion-dollar commercial development."
