Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Massacre
Spencer spent the next three days living in a frantic state of denial. He had moved into Penelope’s father’s house, clinging to the belief that his construction company, Miller Build Group, would save him. After all, he was the CEO. He was the "man of the house."
He scheduled an emergency board meeting to finalize the investment from Penelope’s father, Richard. Richard was a loud, arrogant man who liked to brag about his political connections. He thought he was buying into a booming enterprise.
Spencer stood at the head of the polished mahogany conference table, wearing his best power suit. Richard sat to his right, looking smug. The rest of the board members—men and women Spencer thought he commanded—sat quietly, refusing to make eye contact.
“Let’s get this signed,” Spencer said, projecting fake confidence. “With Richard’s capital, we will dominate the South Florida market.”
The doors to the boardroom opened. I walked in, wearing a sharp, tailored navy suit, my heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor. Mr. Miller walked closely behind me, carrying a briefcase.
“You have no right to be here, Laura!” Spencer barked, his face turning red. “Security! Get my ex-wife out of here!”
None of the security guards moved. None of the board members spoke.
I walked straight to the opposite end of the table and sat down. “I have every right to be here, Spencer. In fact, I’m the only one who does.”
Richard scoffed. “Who is this hysterical woman, Spencer? Deal with your baggage.”
I smiled sweetly at Richard. “I am Laura, Chairwoman of Apex Holdings. And as of 8:00 AM this morning, Apex Holdings has officially called in all debts owed by Miller Build Group.”
Spencer froze. “What debts? My company is profitable!”
I nodded to Mr. Miller, who projected a financial spreadsheet onto the large screen. “Miller Build Group has been operating on a $15 million line of credit for the past four years,” I explained calmly. “A line of credit provided by a shadow bank that is entirely owned by Apex. I authorized that credit to keep your dream alive, Spencer. But you broke the terms of our contract.”
“What terms?!” he yelled, panic creeping into his voice.
“The moral turpitude clause,” Mr. Miller stated. “Using company funds to finance a fraudulent wedding to a mistress constitutes a breach of trust. The debt is due immediately.”
Richard’s smug expression vanished. He looked at Spencer in horror. “You owe fifteen million dollars?! You told me you were debt-free!”
“I... I didn't know!” Spencer stammered, looking at me with wide, terrified eyes. “Laura, please. We were married. You can’t do this to me.”
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“We were married when I slept in a hospital chair for you. We were married when I lost my child,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper that echoed in the silent room. “Now, you’re just a bad investment. You're fired, Spencer. Security, escort Mr. Miller out of my building.”
As the guards grabbed his arms, Spencer screamed my name. But I didn't look back. I was too busy watching Richard tear up the investment contract.
