Chapter 4 - The Boardroom Coup
The emergency board meeting at Kingsley Industries started at 8:00 AM sharp. By 8:15 AM, it was a slaughterhouse.
I wasn't there in person, but Dominic had arranged for a private live-stream feed to be piped directly into the VIP hospital suite. I sat propped up against the pillows, drinking fresh coffee, watching the elite of Manhattan tear each other apart on a fifty-inch screen.
Arthur Kingsley sat at the head of the polished mahogany table, looking ancient and defeated. To his right sat Grant, pale, unshaven, and sweating through a fresh suit, trying desperately to salvage his crumbling authority.
“This is a smear campaign orchestrated by Dominic Moretti and my unstable ex-wife!” Grant shouted, slamming his hand onto the table. Several board members flinched. “The stock drop is a temporary panic! We issue a press release denying the paternity rumors, we threaten Moretti with a defamation lawsuit, and—”
“Sit down, Grant,” interrupted Eleanor Vance, the senior board member and largest independent shareholder of Kingsley Industries. She adjusted her glasses, looking at Grant with undisguised contempt. “We aren't stupid. Moretti’s legal team didn't just leak rumors; they provided certified medical affidavits proving your diagnosis of permanent azoospermia dating back four years. Furthermore, they released audio recordings of you admitting on your wedding day that you blamed Claire to protect your own fragile public image.”
Grant choked on his words. “You—you listened to those?”
“The whole city listened to them, Grant,” Eleanor snapped. “You made our company a laughingstock. The board has already voted. Effective immediately, you are stripped of your title as Chief Operating Officer.”
“You can’t do that!” Grant screamed, standing up so fast his chair tipped over backward with a deafening crash. “My grandfather founded this company! My blood is in these walls!”
“Your incompetence is what’s in these walls,” Arthur said quietly, not even looking up at his son. “Security is outside, Grant. Hand over your keycard.”
I watched the screen as two burly security guards entered the boardroom, grabbing Grant by the arms as he thrashed and cursed like a madman, screaming my name like a lunatic until the doors closed behind him.
The screen cut to black.
The hospital room was dead silent for a moment. Then, the door opened, and Dominic walked in, holding a fresh pastry and a tablet. He looked remarkably relaxed for a man who had just systematically dismantled a multi-billion-dollar dynasty.
“Well,” Dominic said, tossing the tablet onto the foot of my bed. “That’s phase one complete.”
“Phase one?” I raised an eyebrow. “What is phase two?”
Dominic walked over, leaning against the edge of the mattress, looking down at me with an intense, burning gaze that made my heart skip a beat.
“Phase two,” Dominic said slowly, “is making sure you and Chloe never have to look over your shoulders again. And phase three… well, that involves a dinner reservation I’ve been trying to get for three months.”
I couldn't help the small smile that crept onto my lips. “Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Moretti?”
May you like
“I’m formally requesting an audience with the smartest, most resilient woman in New York,” Dominic corrected, his lips twitching into a rare, genuine smile. “Once you’re discharged, of course.”
“I think,” I whispered, looking from him down to our sleeping daughter, “I’d like that very much.”
