Eleanor's composure finally cracked. Her face went pale beneath her perfectly applied makeup. Arthur gripped the back of his chair so hard his knuckles turned white.
"I've reviewed the preliminary financial statements," Marcus continued, his tone businesslike and professional. "Now I need access to complete records. Specifically, I want all documentation related to public-safety technology contracts, police-department partnerships, internal discrimination complaints, and any communications between company employees and law-enforcement personnel."
Patricia Drummond cleared her throat nervously. "Mr. Ellison, those are very comprehensive requests. Some of that information might be considered sensitive."
"Ms. Drummond," Nora Whitfield interrupted smoothly, "my client owns 51% of this company. There is no information too sensitive for the majority shareholder to review."
Arthur found his voice, though it shook with rage. "You may have bought shares, but that doesn't mean you understand how this company operates. We have relationships, agreements, understandings that go back decades."
"Relationships that apparently include coordinating with local police to target minority residents in affluent neighborhoods," Marcus said quietly.
The room fell silent except for the hum of the air-conditioning system. Marcus turned his steady gaze to Vanessa, who sat frozen in her chair like a deer caught in headlights.
When he spoke, his voice carried the weight of absolute authority. "You did not call the police on a stranger. You called them on your majority owner."
The boardroom felt smaller now, as if Marcus's presence had shifted the very air pressure. Eleanor closed her folder and leaned back in her leather chair, the fight draining from her face. Arthur remained standing by the window, but his shoulders had sagged in defeat.
Marcus opened his briefcase and withdrew a tablet. "Ms. Drummond, I need the legal team to produce all contracts with municipal police departments from the last five years. Mr. Sterling, I want complete financial records for the public-safety technology division."
He looked toward Eleanor. "Mrs. Hullbrook, I need access to all internal communications regarding the SafeWatch community-alert system."
Patricia Drummond's face went white. "The SafeWatch system? Sir, that's our most sensitive proprietary-"
"It's my proprietary system now," Marcus interrupted. "And I want to understand exactly how it works."
Robert Kellison shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Mr. Ellison, the SafeWatch platform is a sophisticated neighborhood-security solution. It allows residents to report suspicious activity, and our software analyzes patterns to help law enforcement respond more effectively."
"By flagging certain people as high-risk based on their race and income level," Marcus said flatly.
The silence stretched until it became unbearable.
David Sterling finally spoke up, his voice barely above a whisper. "The system doesn't use race as a direct input variable, but it uses ZIP codes, property values, employment status, and resident-complaint frequency."
"Which creates the same discriminatory results while providing legal cover," Nora Whitfield said, consulting her own notes.
Marcus turned his tablet to face the board. "I've already obtained preliminary data from three police departments that use your system. In the last eighteen months, the SafeWatch platform flagged over two hundred individuals as potential neighborhood threats. Ninety-three percent were Black or Hispanic. Eighty-seven percent were in affluent neighborhoods where they didn't live."
Vanessa finally found her voice. "That's not discrimination. That's just data. If certain people keep showing up where they don't belong-"
"Like me in my own driveway?" Marcus asked quietly.
The question hung in the air like a blade. Vanessa's mouth opened and closed without sound.