Part 7
The sun rose over the city, casting a pale, golden light across the snow-covered skyscrapers.
I dressed with meticulous care.
A sharp, tailored charcoal suit. No jewelry except for my father’s vintage gold watch.
I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the grieving, exhausted woman from the night before.
The mother who had been pushed into the cold was gone.
The CEO had returned.
"The twins are fed and asleep," Marcus said, entering the room as I fastened the watch. "My team will remain here with them. The penthouse is completely locked down. No one gets in or out without my direct biometric clearance."
"Good," I said, taking a deep breath. "Let's go."
The ride to the Vale International headquarters was silent.
The city was waking up, traffic moving slowly through the cleared streets.
When we arrived at the glass tower, the security guards at the entrance immediately stood at attention, bowing their heads in deep respect.
They recognized me. They knew who really owned the building.
We took the private elevator directly to the top floor.
When the doors opened to the executive boardroom, the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Most of the board members were already seated, whispering frantically among themselves.
At the head of the table sat Thomas.
He looked terrible.
He had tried to cover the dark circles under his eyes with expensive grooming, but his wrinkled shirt and the slight tremor in his hands gave him away.
When I walked into the room, followed by Marcus and a team of corporate lawyers, the whispers stopped instantly.
Thomas stiffened, his eyes widening in shock. He clearly hadn't expected me to show up in person, let alone look this composed.
"Victoria," he said, trying to force a confident smile as he stood up. "You shouldn't be here. You’ve just given birth, you're clearly not emotionally stable to handle corporate matters—"
"Sit down, Thomas," I said, my voice echoing with absolute authority.
I didn't use the name Graham.
Several board members exchanged confused and worried glances.
"Victoria, please," Thomas said, his voice dropping into a manipulative, soothing tone. "Let's not do this in front of the board. We have a merger to vote on. The Harrington Luxe integration is vital for the company's future."
I walked to the opposite end of the long mahogany table, refusing to sit, standing tall as I looked down at him.
"There will be no vote on the merger," I announced, nodding to my legal team.
My lead attorney stepped forward, distributing a thick binder to every board member.
"What is this?" one of the senior board members asked, opening the file.
"This," I said, looking directly into Thomas’s panic-stricken eyes, "is the evidence of a massive, multi-year financial fraud, identity theft, and inheritance manipulation perpetrated by the man you know as Graham Harrington."
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Thomas slammed his hands on the table. "This is a lie! A desperate smear campaign because I filed for divorce!"
"Your real name is Thomas Vance," I said, my voice cutting through his outburst like steel. "And you are about to be removed from this building."
