I took a deep breath. The tears were gone, replaced by the long-dormant sharpness of a professional woman.
“Because once we reveal the truth tomorrow, the stock will crash, his assets will be frozen, and the banks will call in their loans. At that point, he wouldn’t be able to pay the $50 million even if he wanted to.”
“Exactly.” Sophia looked at me with admiration. “That $50 million was his last drop of liquid capital. Without it, he can’t even afford a PR firm to handle the crisis tomorrow. Right now, Mom, Gregory Thorne is a fool smoking a cigar on top of a barrel of dynamite, and the fuse is in your hand.”
Sophia pulled another document from her bag. It was a pre-drafted patent infringement notice and a declaration of license termination.
“Sign it,” she said, handing me a pen. “Sign it, and tomorrow we go to that board meeting not to make a scene. We’re going to collect our debt.”
I took the pen. This time, my hand was perfectly steady. I thought of Gregory’s arrogant face at the party, of Melanie’s fake smile, of his mother’s greedy eyes, and that spoiled, mistaught child. They thought I was a vine clinging to a great tree, destined to wither and die without it. They never realized I was the soil that nurtured the tree in the first place. For twenty years, it was my inheritance, my connections, my forbearance, and even my professional knowledge of creative accounting that allowed him to build his empire.
Now I was taking the soil back.
The tree would surely die.
“Sophia,” I said after signing, closing the folder. I looked up at my daughter. The timid, accommodating housewife was gone. In her place was Vance, the Iron Lady auditor who once made fraudulent companies tremble. “What should I wear tomorrow?”
Sophia paused, then smiled. It was a smile of absolute trust and pride in her comrade-in-arms.
“I’ve already had it sent over,” she said, gesturing toward the trunk. “The new Dior power suit and your favorite red-soled heels. Mom, tomorrow you’re the star of the show.”
Outside, the city lights were a chaotic blur. The Maybach cut through the bustling streets, heading for a hotel Sophia had already arranged. I knew that after tonight, the city’s business world would experience an earthquake.
Gregory Thorne, you used $50 million to buy out our past. I’ll use this one piece of paper to buy out your entire future.
“Oh, by the way,” Sophia said, flashing her phone. “Melanie just posted on Instagram a picture of the signed divorce agreement. The caption is, ‘The clouds have parted to reveal the sun.'”
I smirked, took out my own phone, and blocked Gregory and every single one of his relatives.
“Let her post,” I said calmly. “It’ll be the last highlight of her life.”
The car entered a tunnel, and darkness enveloped us. But at the end of the tunnel, I could see a light. It was a new dawn, one that belonged to Sophia and me.
At 9 the next morning, the sun broke through the clouds over the city, but couldn’t penetrate the suffocating atmosphere in the top-floor boardroom of Nexus Corp. I stood at the base of the tower, looking up at the 58-story skyscraper, the monument to Gregory’s pride. When it was topped off, he had wrapped his arm around me and said, “Ellie, a piece of you is in every pane of glass in this building.” Now he intended to replace the building’s queen with that simpering mistress.
“Scared?” Sophia asked, standing beside me.
She was in a crisp white pantsuit today, carrying the briefcase that held our nuclear codes. A pair of thin gold-rimmed glasses hid the sharp glint in her eyes.
I looked down at my own Dior suit and took a deep breath. The faint lingering scent of a housewife’s kitchen seemed to have vanished overnight.
“No.” I adjusted my collar, a cold smile on my lips. “I’m here to collect a debt. The debtor should be the one who’s scared.”
Inside the boardroom, Gregory Thorne was in his element. The huge projector screen displayed Nexus Corp’s strategic plan for the new quarter. The long table was filled with shareholders and executives. And Melanie, the woman who was kneeling and playing pitiful yesterday, was now wearing a new-season Chanel suit, sitting like a decorative vase in the vice president’s chair to Gregory’s left.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Gregory said, tapping the table with an air of triumph. “Before we begin this new quarter, I have two pieces of happy news to announce. First, due to our business expansion, I am appointing Miss Melanie Hayes as the Executive Vice President of Administration in charge of HR and logistics.”
A smattering of polite applause followed. The older shareholders exchanged uneasy glances, but with Gregory holding a 51% controlling stake, no one dared to object.
“Second…” Gregory cleared his throat, a look of feigned sadness on his face. “While it is with great regret, due to irreconcilable differences, Miss Elara Vance and I signed our divorce agreement yesterday. This is a personal matter, but I assure you it will not affect the company’s—”
Bang.
The two heavy mahogany doors to the boardroom were violently shoved open from the outside. The sound cut off Gregory’s speech and startled everyone in the room.
“Security! What is security doing?” Gregory roared, spinning around.
When he saw who had walked in, his expression froze as if he’d swallowed a fly. I walked in, my red-soled heels clicking steadily on the marble floor. The sound was crisp and rhythmic, like a countdown timer. Sophia followed half a step behind me, her expression indifferent, as if we were walking into our own living room, not a den of wolves.
“It seems we’re right on time,” I said, taking off my sunglasses.
My eyes swept over the room, finally landing on the chair that was once mine, now occupied by Melanie.
“I see you’re having a celebration, Gregory.”
“Elara, what are you doing here?” Gregory’s face turned black. He shot up from his chair. “This is a Nexus Corp board meeting. Unauthorized personnel are not allowed. Security, get them out of here.”
Melanie also stood up in a panic, instinctively clutching her Hermès bag.
“Elara, this is inappropriate,” she shrieked. “You took the money. You should honor the agreement. This is a place of business, not a stage for your drama.”
“Drama?” I sneered.
I walked to the head of the table and dropped my crocodile leather handbag onto it with a thud.
“I’m here to make an announcement.”
I ignored the security guards rushing in, my gaze as sharp as a blade as I scanned every shareholder present.
“As of this moment, all Nexus Corp production lines must cease operations immediately.”
The room erupted.
“Elara, are you insane?” Gregory laughed, a crazed look in his eyes. He looked at me as if I were a lunatic. “Who do you think you are? Shut down production? Do you have any idea what Nexus produces in a single minute? Get out before I have you thrown out.”
A few guards hesitated, then moved to grab me.
“Don’t touch her.”
Sophia’s voice was sharp, a clap of thunder in the quiet room. She, who had been silent until now, stepped forward and pulled a document from her briefcase, slapping it down on the table in front of Gregory. It slid across the polished wood and stopped perfectly by his hand.
“Mr. Thorne, can you read?” Sophia pushed her glasses up, her voice freezing cold. “Notice of termination of patent license for the Azure Core Algorithm. If you don’t understand, I can have my lawyer read it to you word for word.”
Gregory froze instinctively, looking down. When he saw the words termination of license and the official red seal and signature at the bottom, his pupils contracted violently.
“What? What termination? This technology belongs to the company. Since when do you have the right to terminate anything?”
I walked up to him, leaning over the table, looking down at this greasy, middle-aged man.
“Gregory, have you forgotten? You were the one who said this algorithm was worthless. You were the one who said, ‘I don’t care whose it is. Just keep it off the company’s budget.’ The patent certificate in black and white states that the owner is me, Elara Vance, and the sole inventor is Sophia Thorne.”
“That’s impossible!” Melanie shrieked from the side. “This is fraud. This has to be forged. Greg, call the police. Have them arrested.”
