Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Blitz
The next morning, Ethan was safely at my father’s estate, surrounded by loving grandparents and a team of private security. I, on the other hand, was stepping out of a black town car in front of Whitman-Hayes Innovations.
I wore a tailored crimson suit—the color of war.
When I swiped my keycard and stepped onto the executive floor, the tension in the air was palpable. I could hear Richard’s booming voice from the glass-walled conference room before I even opened the door. He was already trying to seize control, standing at the head of the long mahogany table, barking orders at the CFO.
"Freeze all of Amanda Hayes' accounts immediately," Richard commanded, pointing at a junior accountant. "She is having a mental breakdown. As the CEO, I am stepping in to handle all financial directives until further notice."
I pushed the heavy glass doors open. They hit the stoppers with a loud thud.
"That won't be necessary," I announced, walking into the room. Behind me trailed my father, two men in dark suits from the firm's legal team, and a forensic auditor.
Richard froze, his face twitching. "Amanda, what are you doing here? This is an executive meeting. You are disrupting—"
"I’m correcting," I interrupted, taking a seat at the opposite end of the table. I motioned for the legal team to distribute the thick, bound folders they had brought. They slid one across the polished wood to every board member, landing the heaviest one right in front of Richard.
"What is this?" Richard demanded, refusing to open it.
"That," I smiled, "is the result of a quiet three-month forensic audit of the company’s finances. I noticed some discrepancies in the offshore accounts back in September. It turns out, our 'brilliant CEO' has been embezzling company funds to finance a secret life."
Gasps erupted around the table. The board members scrambled to open their folders.
"Lies!" Richard slammed his fist on the table. "You're making this up because you're a jealous, bitter woman!"
"I’m a meticulous woman," I corrected. "Page twelve shows a wire transfer of four hundred thousand dollars to a shell corporation, which then miraculously purchased a condo downtown—the exact address where Brooke has been living for the past two years. Page twenty-five details company funds being used to buy a luxury SUV, diamond jewelry, and prenatal care at an exclusive private clinic."
Richard’s face went completely white. He looked frantically at the board members, but their expressions had shifted from confusion to absolute disgust.
"You can't do this," he whispered, his bravado finally shattering. "I own forty percent of the voting shares! You can't fire me!"
"Ah, yes. The shares," I said softly, leaning forward. "Do you remember those company restructuring papers you signed last month? The ones you complained were too long to read, so you just scribbled your name while rushing out to a 'golf trip'?"
His eyes widened in sheer terror as the realization hit him.
"You signed a morality clause and a forfeiture agreement. In the event of gross financial misconduct, your shares instantly revert to the company treasury. You don't own forty percent, Richard. You own zero."
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My father stood up, buttoning his suit jacket. "Richard, you are terminated, effective immediately. Security is waiting outside to escort you off the premises. We have also forwarded this audit to the district attorney. Expect the police at your door."
Two burly security guards stepped into the room. Richard looked like a deflated balloon. The arrogant, untouchable man who had mocked my son the night before was now being dragged out of the building he thought he ruled, carrying nothing but a cardboard box of desk trinkets.
