The elevator ride up was silent except for the soft hum of machinery. Zephyr Jin stood between two stone-faced security officers his wrists were shackled, shoes scuffed and prison uniform stiff against his skin.
He used to ride this elevator in thousand-dollar suits, sipping single malt while reading market forecasts.
Now?
Now he was being escorted to his own execution.
When the doors slid open on the top floor, he stepped out into a hallway he'd once designed himself. Glass walls. Gold-veined marble. Soft ambient lighting. It still smelled the same clean, cold and expensive.
The boardroom doors were already open.
Inside sat twelve people. Every one of them had once toasted him. Praised him. Laughed at his jokes. Now they looked like they couldn't wait to forget his name.
Zephyr was led to the center of the room. No seat for him, of course.
"Zephyr," said Hoyt, leaning back in the chair Zephyr had once called his own. "You're looking... well-fed."
Someone chuckled Marleen, maybe. Still wearing the pearl earrings he gave her two promotions ago.
Zephyr didn't reply. He didn't look at them. He looked at the walls. At the floor. At the small crack in the corner tile he remembered that crack. He'd stepped on it during a heated argument five years ago.
"Let's keep this short," Hoyt said. "Your legal appeals are exhausted. The charges stand. Fraud. Corporate sabotage. Image damage."
He swiped across his tablet. The room's main screen lit up behind him.
[ Motion: Permanent Removal of Zephyr Jin from All Corporate Holdings ]
[ Effective Immediately. ]
"We'll be reclaiming your shares under clause 9B," Hoyt continued. "For the sake of market stability. I'm sure you understand."
Zephyr raised an eyebrow. "Clause 9B was written for catastrophic incompetence."
"Exactly," Marleen murmured.
The votes lit up, one by one.
Green. Green. Green.
Zephyr didn't move. But he felt the quiet knot inside his chest tighten. He'd known this was coming.
He just hadn't expected it to feel so… quiet.
The door opened behind him.
He didn't turn. He didn't have to.
He knew that perfume.
Lin Suyin walked in without looking at him. Dressed like a funeral all black, high heels and with a expression blank. She dropped a thick envelope onto the table and turned to leave.
"Wait," Hoyt called after her. He opened the envelope, flipped through the pages. "Ah. Divorce papers. You're nothing if not efficient."
She didn't respond. Didn't even glanced at Zephyr. Just walked out.
And just like that, she was gone too.
The screen behind Hoyt blinked once more.
[ Finalized. Ownership Transferred. ]
[ Zephyr Jin: Removed. ]
Hoyt stood. Walked up to him slowly, deliberately. Then he reached into his own pocket and pulled out the silver founder's pin the symbol of the company Zephyr built from nothing.
Without a word, Hoyt dropped it to the floor and crushed it under his shoe.
"You always liked symbols," he said. "There's one for the scrapbook."
Zephyr looked at the crushed metal. Then at Hoyt.
"You're already dying," he said softly.
Hoyt blinked. "What?"
Zephyr met his eyes and said in a cold tone "You just don't know it yet."
The guards took him by the arms.
This time he didn't resist.
He let them walk him out in silence, the sound of the boardroom doors closing behind him echoing louder than any courtroom verdict ever had.