The crystal chandeliers of the Maison de Lumiere boardroom cast a warm, golden glow over polished French oak.
Located on the top floor of a private nineteenth-century chateau overlooking Lake Geneva, the boardroom was the beating heart of European private finance. Outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, the tranquil waters of the lake mirrored the snow-capped summit of Mont Blanc under a clear evening sky.
Twelve men and women in bespoke tailored suits sat around a twenty-foot mahogany conference table.
At the head of the table sat Baron Victor Julian von Lombard-Vane.
He was seventy-two years old, with immaculate silver hair brushed straight back, cold flint-gray eyes, and a silk cravat pinned with a black platinum serpent clasp. In his right hand, he held a crystal glass filled with dark, vintage Bordeaux wine.
“Gentlemen, and esteemed directors,” Baron Lombard-Vane said, his voice smooth, cultured, and measured. “The provisional asset forfeiture order has been successfully ratified by the commercial tribunal. Fifty billion dollars belonging to the Taichu Humanitarian Foundation has been frozen across thirty European clearinghouses.”
A soft murmur of polite, self-satisfied chuckles rippled around the table.
Lord Arthur Vance, a senior partner from a prominent London private investment house, leaned back in his leather chair. He adjusted his gold pocket watch with a smug, condescending grin.
