Part 3: The Boardroom Ambush
I didn't run back to the lobby; I walked straight out to my private car, my heels clicking sharply against the wet asphalt outside.
Daniel was already standing near the curb, holding Mia’s hand as they watched me slide into the leather passenger seat.
"Clara, wait!" he shouted through the closing door. "You left your white flower!"
I didn't answer because my mind was already tracking the geometry of Grant's corporate execution.
By 9:00 p.m., I had arrived at the Whitmore headquarters downtown, the glass skyscraper looking cold against the rainy night sky.
The elevator doors opened to the 40th floor, revealing my ex-husband standing in the center of the main boardroom.
Grant wore an expensive tailored suit, a satisfied, arrogant smile plastered across his face as he reviewed the trading monitors.
Beside him stood his mother, Diane, wearing her trademark pearls and a sharp teal blazer, her arms crossed in triumph.
"You're late for your own funeral, Clara," Grant sneered, not looking up from his tablet.
"The board just voted to dissolve your voting rights under the regional compliance clause."
"The board didn't vote on anything, Grant," I said, my voice entirely calm as I stepped up to the mahogany conference table.
May you like
I pulled out my secure data drive and slid it across the glass surface.
"Because the Vanguard Trust Group bought out your family's remaining utility easements three hours ago."
