Chapter 3

My words were like a bomb going off in the conference room. Everyone was stunned, even Roman.

"What do you mean?" Roman stared me down, suspicion and anxiety written all over his face.

"What I mean is," I took documents from my briefcase, placed them gently on the table, and pushed them to the center, "Mr. Holloway, the 30% shares under your name were already included in an irrevocable conditional gift agreement as marital property ten years ago.

"The agreement states that if you commit any act of infidelity or harm to the interests of your family, the shares will automatically and unconditionally be transferred to your wife, Victoria."

I paused, my gaze swept across the shocked faces of the board, finally settling on Roman, whose face had turned pale.

I continued, "And as Victoria's sole authorized agent, I hereby officially announce one thing. Roman is no longer a shareholder of Holloway Group. He's lost everything."

"It's impossible. This can't be real." Roman sprang to his feet, grabbed the documents, and rifled through them with shaking hands.

Everything was laid out in black and white, with a red fingerprint and the notary's stamp. It was an undeniable proof.

Back when he was on top of the world, and the company had gone public, he signed this agreement to appease a wealthy suitor who was relentlessly pursuing my mother, and to flaunt his supposed loyalty.

He must have forgotten all about it, or assumed it was nothing but a worthless piece of paper.

He never dreamed that this worthless paper would become the knife that severed every path of retreat he had left today.

"It's fake. This has to be forged." Roman ripped at the documents like a lunatic, his face twisted with rage. "That idiot, Victoria, could never have pulled this off. It must be you. You're behind all this."

"Mr. Holloway, mind your words," Samuel finally seized his chance, rising with righteous authority. "The notary can vouch for the authenticity of this agreement.

"And even without it, the solid evidence of your embezzlement and keeping a mistress is more than enough to justify your removal."

Samuel's words washed over Roman like a bucket of ice water.

He collapsed back into his chair, staring at the torn pieces in his hands, mumbling again and again, "No, it's impossible..."

The directors who had sided with Roman were now silent as statues, pretending not to see or hear anything, desperate to vanish into thin air. People in business always knew how to read the room and switch sides when the tide turned.

The whole situation flipped in a heartbeat.

I ignored Roman's meltdown and looked straight at the other directors.

"Now, representing Victoria, the biggest shareholder of Holloway Group, and Reese, the second, who holds 10%, I propose," my voice was loud and steady, cutting through the tension in the room, "that Roman be stripped of all his positions in Holloway Group, effective immediately."

"I second that." Samuel was the first to raise his hand.

"I-I second it, too," a director who'd been neutral before finally raised his hand.

One after another, the third, the fourth, and then the rest of the directors raised their hands. In the end, it was a unanimous vote.

Roman got dragged out of the conference room by two security guards. As he passed me, he shot me a poisonous look, gritting his teeth and growling, "Reese, you really are ruthless. Don't get cocky. I won't let this slide."

I didn't even bother to look up.

Threats from a man stripped of power and wealth were the desperate barking of a kicked-out mutt, laughable and pathetic.

As soon as the meeting wrapped up, I had the legal and finance teams take over everything Roman used to run, including every project and every stamp of authority.

I spent the entire afternoon managing the transition, so busy that I didn't even get a moment to rest.

Just as I was settling in for a break that evening, someone roughly pushed the office door open from outside.

A woman, decked out in flashy clothes and drowning in perfume, barged in, dragging along a guy about my age with arrogance written all over his face.

"Who's Reese?" she screeched, her face stretched tight from too much plastic surgery, radiating arrogance.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at her coldly.

I didn't even have to guess. This was the babe from Roman's voice message, Isolde Voss. And the guy with her must be Roman's bastard son, Ethan Holloway.

"That's me," I said.

Isolde gave me a once-over, her eyes dripping with contempt and jealousy. "So you're the daughter of that old hag? Not much to look at, are you?

"Listen up. Roman is my man, and Holloway Group is going to belong to my son, Ethan. You and your mother had better pack your stuff and get out. Stop hogging a spot you don't deserve."

Ethan stood behind her, arms crossed, glaring at me like I was nothing. "You heard my mom, right? There's no place for you here anymore. If you've got any sense, leave now. Don't make us throw you out. It won't be pretty."

Their brazen shamelessness was so outrageous that I couldn't help but laugh in disbelief.

"You two?" I stood up and walked over, towering above them. "Who gave you the nerve to come in here and make a scene in my office?"

"Your office?" Isolde scoffed, as I'd just told the world's funniest joke. "This is about to be Ethan's office, not yours. Roman said he'd give us the best of everything."

"Oh, really?" The smile on my lips grew even colder. "Did he tell you he's been fired by the board, penniless, and tossed out?"

Isolde and Ethan's faces went pale in an instant.