Chapter 4 - The Boardroom Coup
The wedding was officially dead. The string quartet had stopped playing, replaced by an agonizing, heavy silence broken only by the chirping of birds in the manicured hedges.
Eleanor recovered her composure faster than anyone else. She was a Montgomery; survival was in her bloodline. She forced a chilling, plastic smile onto her face and turned to the stunned crowd.
"There has been a slight family misunderstanding," Eleanor announced, her voice ringing out crystal clear. "The ceremony is paused. Family matters will be handled privately inside the East Salon. Please enjoy the refreshments on the terrace."
She turned back to me, her eyes narrowing into slits. "Inside. Now."
We didn't go to Table 27. We marched straight into the grand oak-paneled library of the mansion—the very room where, five years ago, Eleanor had slid a non-disclosure agreement across the mahogany desk and told me I was worthless.
Ethan slumped into a leather armchair, burying his face in his hands. Caroline stood near the door, shaking with rage, while Senator Hastings paced back and forth like a caged wolf.
"What do you want, Katherine?" Eleanor demanded, standing before the unlit fireplace like a queen facing an invading army. "Name your price. Ten million? Fifty? Take the money and get these bastards out of my sight."
"Bastards?" Liam piped up from where he was examining an antique globe. "Mama, what's a bastard? Is it like Grandma's personality?"
Noah and Caleb giggled softly. Julian Vance muffled a cough behind his hand.
Eleanor looked like she wanted to commit murder with her bare hands. "You disrespectful little—"
"Watch your tone when you speak to my children," I interrupted, my voice dropping the casual warmth and turning entirely glacial. I walked over to the mahogany desk, sat down in the executive chair—the exact seat Eleanor had occupied when she threw me out—and crossed my legs.
"I don't want your money, Eleanor. You couldn't afford what I want," I said, resting my hands on the desk. "I want the Montgomery empire. Piece by piece. Starting with this estate."
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Ethan dropped his hands, staring at me in absolute horror. "Katherine, you're insane. You can't just take—"
"Watch me," I replied, sliding a thick legal document across the desk toward him. "This is a hostile asset seizure notice. Thanks to your mother’s secret loans against the estate to fund your new political aspirations—loans that defaulted yesterday morning when my firm acquired your primary debt portfolio—you are officially bankrupt, Ethan."
