Chapter 2 - THE BOARDROOM AMBUSHThe mahogany double doors of the Kincaid Enterprises boardroom swung open, revealing the twelve most powerful, ruthless executives in Chicago. At the head of the long glass table sat my mother, Victoria Kincaid. She wore a tailored white Chanel suit, her silver hair styled into an immaculate chignon, her diamond earrings catching the chandelier light like shards of ice.
She looked every bit the untouchable matriarch. She had no idea her throne was built on quicksand.
"Ah, Daniel. Cutting it close as usual," Victoria said, her voice carrying across the silent room. Several board members chuckled nervously. They all knew the tragedy that had supposedly broken me, treating me with a patronizing mix of pity and contempt.
"Traffic downtown was worse than expected, Mother," I replied smoothly, pulling out the chair directly opposite her. I didn't sit down immediately; instead, I stood tall, resting my palms on the polished wood.
Victoria frowned slightly, her sharp eyes scanning my face. "You look... different tonight, Daniel. There's color in your cheeks. Have you finally stopped mourning that ghost?"
The casual cruelty in her voice—referuring to Emily as a ghost she herself had manufactured—sent a surge of blinding adrenaline through my veins. The board members shifted uncomfortably, unused to Victoria speaking so harshly of her late daughter-in-law in public, even if they secretly agreed.
"Grief is a strange thing, Mother," I said, maintaining direct eye contact. "Sometimes, it makes you blind. You miss things right in front of you. But eventually, the fog clears. And you start seeing the monsters in the light."
Victoria's expression tightened. A flicker of genuine unease crossed her features before she masked it with a chilling smile. "Let’s get to business. We are here to vote on the acquisition of the maritime assets. Daniel, as the primary proxy, your vote decides the majority."
"Before we vote on anything," I interrupted, my voice ringing clear and steady through the massive room, "we need to address a discrepancy in the company's foundational assets."
"Discrepancy?" Victoria's voice dropped an octave, the temperature in the room plunging. "There are no discrepancies. Move to vote."
"I object," a calm, authoritative voice boomed from the doorway.
Everyone turned. Striding into the boardroom was Special Agent Thomas Vance of the Federal Bureau of Investigation—and trailing right behind him were three armed federal marshals.
Victoria slammed her hands on the table, standing up so fast her chair screeched against the floor. "What is the meaning of this? This is a private corporate meeting! Guards!"
"Guards won't be helping you today, Mrs. Kincaid," Agent Vance said, flashing a gold badge that glinted under the lights. He walked straight up to the head of the table, pulling a thick Manila folder from his jacket.
I smiled, pulling my phone out of my pocket. On the screen was a live video feed from the penthouse suite upstairs.
May you like
Emily and little Lily sat safely on the sofa, watching the screen.
"Mother," I said softly, stepping toward her while the entire board watched in stunned silence. "You forgot one crucial rule when you play God and bury people alive: Make sure they actually stay dead."
