The atmosphere in the penthouse shifted from domestic sanctuary to war room the next morning.
William sat at the dining table, surrounded by monitors. The graph on the main screen was a jagged red line pointing straight down.
“He’s dumping,” William said, running a hand through his hair. “Arthur is dumping the shares he bought through the shell companies to trigger a panic sell-off. The price is down twelve percent since the market opened.”
“Can you buy them back?” Victoria asked, feeding Leo.
“I don’t have the liquidity,” William admitted, his voice tight. “I spent my personal reserves stopping Seraphina’s crash in Season 2. If the stock drops below forty, the board can trigger a vote of no confidence. Arthur picks up the pieces for pennies on the dollar.”
He looked at his son, then at his wife. The fear of failing them–of being the Croft who lost the legacy–was a physical weight on his chest.
“I need fifty million dollars by close of business,” William whispered. “And I don’t have it.”