Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Massacre
Grant stormed onto the 50th floor, his face flushed red with rage and confusion.
He pushed past the security guards, determined to show whoever was trying to usurp his position exactly what it meant to mess with a Harrington.
The heavy mahogany doors of the primary boardroom were already open.
Inside, the entire executive board was seated. These were men and women Grant had spent years trying to impress.
Usually, they chatted idly before meetings. Today, there was dead silence.
Every single executive was staring at the head of the long glass table.
Grant marched in. "What the hell is going on here? My keycard is blocked. My accounts are frozen. Who is running this circus?"
The leather chair at the head of the table slowly swiveled around.
Grant stopped dead in his tracks.
The air seemed to leave his lungs all at once.
Sitting in the Chairman's seat, dressed in a sharply tailored, ten-thousand-dollar white power suit, her hair perfectly styled and her posture radiating absolute authority, was his wife.
It was me.
"Hello, Grant," I said, my voice echoing clearly in the silent room.
He blinked, his mouth opening and closing like a suffocating fish.
"Evelyn? What... what are you doing here? How did you get past security?"
"I own the security firm, Grant," I replied smoothly, leaning forward and resting my chin on my intertwined hands. "Just like I own this building. Just like I own Harrington Luxury Group."
"That's... that's impossible!" he shouted, his voice cracking. "You're a struggling interior designer! You couldn't even afford your own car when we met!"
"I am Evelyn Vale," I corrected him, letting the name hang in the air.
I watched the realization slowly wash over his face.
Vale. The shadowy billionaire holding company that had bailed out Harrington Luxury Group when Grant's father nearly drove it into bankruptcy three years ago.
The conglomerate that had kept the Harrington name on the door only for the sake of public relations.
"You..." Grant stumbled backward, grabbing the back of a chair for support. "You're the CEO of Vale Holdings?"
"I am the founder," I stated coldly. "I bought your family's failing company because I thought it had potential. Then, I met you."
I stood up, slowly walking down the length of the table. Every executive kept their eyes glued to their notepads, terrified to even breathe.
"I wanted to know if the man I was falling for loved me, or if he would only love my money," I continued, my heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor.
"So, I played a part. I hid my wealth. And for a while, I thought I had found a good man."
I stopped right in front of him.
"But last night, you showed me exactly who you are. You threw your own ten-day-old sons into a blizzard because your mother forged a fake DNA test."
Grant's eyes widened in sheer panic. "She... she didn't forge it. The hospital sent it!"
"The hospital has no record of it," Marcus interjected from the corner of the room, holding up a thick legal folder. "We pulled the security footage from the clinic Victoria visited last week. She paid a technician ten thousand dollars to fabricate a document."
Grant looked like he was going to vomit.
"Evelyn... I didn't know... I swear I didn't know," he pleaded, reaching out for my hand.
I slapped his hand away. The sound cracked like a whip.
"Do not touch me," I hissed, my eyes narrowing.
"You didn't verify it. You didn't ask me. You didn't even look at your own children. You just chose the money and your mother's approval over your family."
I turned back to the table and picked up a single sheet of paper.
"Grant Harrington, your employment is terminated effectively immediately. Reason: Gross incompetence, misuse of company funds, and a moral turpitude clause that I personally drafted."
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"You can't do this to me!" he screamed, tears of desperation forming in his eyes. "I'm your husband!"
"Not for much longer," I said softly. "Security. Escort Mr. Harrington out of my building. He is not allowed to take anything."
