Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Revolt

By two o’clock that afternoon, news of the courtroom disaster had leaked to the financial press. Gavin’s phone vibrated continuously on the counsel table, displaying dozens of missed calls from board members, senior investors, and emergency PR teams.
Sloane Pierce had already gathered her coat and designer handbag, stepping away from Gavin’s table to stand near the exit doors. The romantic facade had completely shattered the moment she realized Gavin wasn't a multi-millionaire founder—he was an executive occupant on a clock that had just run out.
"Gavin," Sloane hissed, her tone sharp and stripped of all affection. "The board is calling an emergency session at five. They’re hearing rumors that the core software platform doesn't belong to the firm."
Gavin didn't answer. He stared blankly at Cassandra, who was calmly putting a notebook into her shoulder bag.
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"Cassandra," Gavin choked out, his voice raspy and devoid of its usual broadcast polish. "You... you let me build this. You watched me give interviews for ten years! You let everyone think—"
"I let you execute a job," Cassandra said, turning to face him. "And you did well for a time. But then you confused the microphone with the machine, Gavin. You thought because you held the press conferences, you owned the foundation."