Page 18 of Oleander

“I am sitting inside an asset,” he said. “A Burton asset. Proof that this company creates value.”

“The yacht is held by your family trust,” Peter said. “The company pays the crew, fuel, berth, insurance, and refurbishment. That is not value creation. That is extraction.”

Hollis picked up the framed control panel beside the sofa and pressed a button. Exterior shutters descended halfway over the salon windows, narrowing the city to horizontal strips.

“The yacht is where I conduct business,” he said. “It is where senators have sat at that table and heard why offshore development matters. It is where lenders have shaken my hand. It is where Dorothy refused to entertain people because she could not tolerate them, even for the sake of your dividends.”

“Dorothy objected to charging the company,” Calvin said. “Her objections are in the audit file too.”

Hollis’s hand tightened around the control panel.

“Dorothy objected to breathing if it was my idea.”

Onscreen, a notification appeared beside Lila’s image. She read it, glanced toward another monitor, and calmly spoke.

“My first block cleared.”

“Reverse it.”

“No.”

The word carried no heat. That made it worse. Hollis had spent his life handling anger—union anger, regulator anger, Dorothy’s cold, articulate anger—but refusal without emotion gave him nothing to push against.

“You understand what happens if everyone follows you,” he said. “The price falls through the floor. The company loses access to cash. The families waiting for compensation get in line behind creditors. You want that attached to your name?”

“You are using the dead men’s families as a shield,” Evelyn said.

“I am describing consequences.”

“Then describe the consequence of ignoring a shutdown request,” Peter said. “Describe why Platform Nine’s emergency coordinator waited before notifying outside rescue. Describe the consulting fee paid to your brother’s compliance firm.”

Hollis walked to the galley pass-through and found the chief steward waiting discreetly beyond it.

“Leave the bottle,” Hollis said. “And tell Captain Ames to take us beyond the harbor lights.” The steward hesitated.

“The captain says the weather is turning, sir.”

“Then he can turn with it.”

The engines came alive beneath the deck. The goblets in the cabinet gave a faint crystalline chatter. Hollis felt the vibration in his feet and breathed easier. Motion meant distance. Distance meant control.

“Where are you going?” Evelyn asked.

“I am already where I need to be.”

“Your attorneys are in the Houston office. The board is assembling there. Reporters are outside. The families’ counsel requested a meeting.”

“Those families reached an agreement already. I’m not interested in their greed for a civil suit. I will not be paraded through a lobby so strangers can photograph my grief.” Calvin removed his glasses.

“Is that what this is?”

Hollis stared at the overturned photograph.

“My wife is dead. My main platform is gone. My company is under attack. Do not lecture me about grief.”

“Your platform?” Evelyn said. “Twenty-seven people were on it.”

“And because they were on it, you all earned money. Do not become saints after depositing the dividends.”