Chapter 9 - The Power of the Press
The next morning,
the headlines were brutal.
"Billionaire Gideon Knightley Served with Restraining Order in London,"
read the Daily Mail.
A paparazzi photo showed Gideon standing outside my apartment building in the rain,
looking disheveled and defeated.
The image was a massive contrast to the usual sleek,
confident pictures of the tech mogul.
In a luxury hotel suite,
Gideon stared at the newspaper,
a cup of black coffee cooling in front of him.
He hadn't slept in forty-eight hours,
and the dark circles under his eyes showed his exhaustion.
Barrett entered the room,
holding a tablet with a grim expression.
"The board has called an emergency meeting for this afternoon,
sir,"
Barrett reported quietly.
"They are discussing a temporary suspension of your CEO duties."
Gideon didn't look up,
his gaze fixed on the photo of himself in the rain.
"They can't oust me,
I own forty percent of the shares,"
he muttered.
"Yes,
sir,
but Arthur Vance has been buying up the public shares since this morning,"
Barrett explained,
his voice trembling.
"He's aligning with the minority investors.
If he gets the board's backing,
they can force a vote of no confidence."
Gideon's head snapped up,
his eyes narrowing.
"Arthur Vance?
What does he have to do with this?"
"He flew to London yesterday,
sir.
And according to our sources,
he was seen leaving Marcus Vance's office last night."
Gideon stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the floor.
The pieces were falling into place,
and the trap was closing.
Clara hadn't just left him;
she had provided his worst enemy with the perfect weapon to destroy his empire.
She wasn't just hiding in London;
she was the center of a corporate coup.
"Get me Arthur Vance on the phone,"
Gideon hissed,
May you like
his hands curling into fists.
"Now!"
