Monday morning, he strutted into the building like a king—until the head of security blocked the door.
“Sir, you’re not authorized.”
That’s when I stepped forward. “You’re the CEO on paper,” I said calmly. “Paper is the only place you ever win.”
Security didn’t move. He explained the policy was issued by the controlling shareholder.
Jason froze. “That’s me.”
“No,” I replied. “That’s why I didn’t argue Friday.”
I handed over an envelope. Inside was an emergency board resolution activating Class B voting rights—rights my father had created but never shared with Jason.
A contingency clause. Triggered by misconduct.
Jason had done more than fire me. He’d violated lender covenants and tried to access restricted systems without approval.
