Chapter 6 - FACING THE LIONS IN THE TWELFTH-FLOOR BOARDROOM
The private elevator bell chimed softly, and the heavy mahogany doors slid open to reveal the sprawling, high-ceilinged executive boardroom of the Halston Meridian. The room was thick with the suffocating stench of expensive panic, stale tobacco smoke, and sweat. All twelve members of the board of directors were seated around the massive, custom-built walnut conference table that my mother had commissioned the year I graduated from high school. At the head of the table sat my father, Richard Halston, looking ten years older than he had last night, his skin an unhealthy shade of gray, his silk tie loosened and hanging crookedly around his wrinkled collar. Standing right behind his chair, leaning over his shoulder with her face twisted into a mask of pure, rabid fury, was Celeste. She was still wearing the same silver evening gown from the gala, though the hem was stained at the bottom and her professionally styled hair was coming loose in wild, unkempt strands. The moment I stepped out of the private elevator and walked into the boardroom, the frantic shouting around the table died instantly. Every single head whipped around toward the doorway, their collective gazes locking onto me as if I were a ghost risen straight from the grave. My father half-rose from his leather executive chair, his hands gripping the edge of the polished walnut table so hard his knuckles turned completely white. "Mara..." he breathed out, his voice a pathetic, trembling whisper. "You... you actually came." Celeste pushed past him so violently that my father stumbled back into his chair. She stormed around the end of the table, her fingernails digging into her palms as she closed the distance between us with terrifying speed. "You little piece of trash!" Celeste shrieked, raising her hand as if she intended to strike me across the face right in front of the entire board of directors. I didn't flinch, didn't blink, and didn't step back an inch. I simply locked my eyes onto hers with such cold, unyielding authority that her hand froze mid-air, trembling with impotent rage. "Go ahead, Celeste," I said, my voice cutting through the thick silence of the boardroom like a razor-sharp scalpel. "Hit me. Add assault and battery on top of the corporate fraud charges Elliot is currently preparing against your precious son, Julian." Celeste’s arm dropped slowly to her side, her face draining of all color as the terrifying weight of my words finally registered in her desperate, money-hungry brain. "Fraud?" she choked out, her voice cracking. "What are you talking about? This hotel belongs to Richard! We built this empire! You have no right—you're just a bitter, ungrateful girl playing dress-up with documents you don't understand!" I pulled a thick, leather-bound folder out from under my arm and tossed it carelessly onto the center of the walnut conference table, right in front of the lead corporate legal counsel, Arthur Pendelton. The heavy leather cover hit the wood with a dull, echoing thud that made several board members flinch. "Read page four, Arthur," I said, keeping my gaze fixed squarely on my trembling father. "Read it out loud to the entire board, so everyone understands exactly who owns every single brick, tile, and square foot of this building."
May you like
Related Stories
