Chapter 10 - The Coup
The weight of Victoria’s words hung heavily in the freezing air of the grand hallway. Julian stared at his cousin, the betrayal sinking in alongside the exhaustion that weighed down his bones.
“Proxy vote?” Julian echoed, shaking his head. “You can’t call a board meeting at midnight without prior notice to the primary stakeholders.”
“Under Section 8, Paragraph 4 of the corporate charter,” Victoria replied, snapping her leather briefcase open and pulling out a crisp stack of documents, “any gross moral turpitude resulting in immediate public scandal bypasses standard notification protocols. The board has already convened via an emergency conference call while you two were busy arguing in the foyer.”
Richard chuckled softly, pouring himself another glass of scotch as if watching a theatrical performance he had already read the script for. “Well, played, Victoria. I assume you’re heading the interim restructuring committee?”
“Naturally,” Victoria said without blinking. She turned her cold gaze toward Clara and Thomas Miller. “And as for the domestic liability causing this financial hemorrhage, legal counsel has already prepared a comprehensive non-disclosure agreement with a hefty severance package.”
Clara straightened up, pulling away from her father’s supporting arm. Despite the exhaustion and the tears still drying on her cheeks, a fierce, unbreakable dignity radiated from her.
“I don’t want your severance package,” Clara said, her voice cutting through the noise of the room like glass. “You can keep your money, your mansion, and your rotting empire.”
“Don’t be foolish, girl,” Victoria said sharply. “Without our financial backing, you and your bastard child will be living in a homeless shelter by the end of the month.”
“That’s enough!” Julian roared, stepping between his cousin and Clara. He ripped the corporate security badge off his lapel and hurled it onto the marble floor, where it skidded to a halt near Victoria’s designer boots. “I resign. Effective immediately. Take the company, take the house, take every last cent.”
“Julian, no,” Clara whispered, reaching out to touch his arm. “You can’t throw away everything for—”
“It was never mine to begin with,” Julian interrupted, turning to look down into her hazel eyes with absolute clarity. “For the first time in my life, I’m choosing something real.”
Eleanor watched her son with a look of profound, chilling detachment. “You think love pays the hospital bills, Julian? You think poverty builds a future for a child? You are walking away into absolute nothingness.”
“Nothingness with a clear conscience is worth more than a billion dollars of your blood money,” Julian replied steadily.
May you like
Before Eleanor could deliver a final, cutting retort, the front security gates outside the courtyard buzzed loudly, signaling the arrival of municipal police vehicles.
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