Chapter 13 - THE COUNTER-ATTACK IN THE BOARDROOMBy the end of the week, the yellowed manila folder Arthur gave me had been authenticated by handwriting experts and forensic legal accountants. But Dominic wasn't going down without a fight.
Word leaked to the financial press that Dominic was attempting a desperate, hostile proxy takeover. Backed by a syndicate of shadowy offshore investors who didn't care about fashion or ethics—only about salvaging their devalued shares—he was launching a multi-million-dollar lawsuit claiming that my initial injunction against him was an illegal abuse of corporate power.
On Friday afternoon, a formal notice of an emergency board meeting arrived at my office.
Dominic had invoked an old shareholder clause demanding a face-to-face arbitration hearing in the main conference room, with all major investors, legal representatives, and financial regulators present. He wanted to humiliate me publicly, invalidate my sole proprietorship, and take back the company.
When I walked into the grand conference room at precisely 2:00 PM, the atmosphere was thick with tension.
Dominic sat at the head of the table, flanked by three high-priced corporate defense attorneys in identical charcoal suits. He looked revitalized by desperation, a manic, dangerous gleam in his eyes. He had traded his usual arrogance for a cold, predatory hunger.
"Nora," Dominic sneered as I took my seat opposite him, my legal counsel, Alexander Vance, sitting quietly to my right. "You look tired. Running a billion-dollar empire isn't quite as easy as sketching pretty dresses on your kitchen table, is it?"
I didn't blink. I opened my leather folio, pulled out a single sheet of paper, and placed it neatly in front of me.
"Save the performance, Dominic," I said, my voice cutting through the heavy silence of the room like a scalpel. "You called this emergency arbitration to challenge my ownership. Let's hear your case before I present mine."
Dominic stood up, pacing the length of the glass-walled room like a caged panther. He turned to the board members—men and women whose faces showed deep anxiety over the plummeting stock prices.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Dominic began, his voice dripping with calculated theatricality. "My ex-wife obtained control of Caruso Design Group through coercion, media manipulation, and false copyright claims. She claims originality, but under corporate employment terms, any design drafted during our marriage—using resources tied to my estate—legally belongs to the parent corporation, which I now represent alongside our primary institutional investors!"
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Murmurs rippled through the board. The investors looked tempted. After all, corporate law in New York historically favored capital over creative rights.
Dominic smiled triumphantly, turning his gaze back to me. "Hand over the keys, Nora. Drop the lawsuits, settle out of court, and maybe—just maybe—we won't press criminal charges for corporate extortion."
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