Chapter 5 - MY MOTHER’S FIRST MISTAKE

Daria recovered quickly.

She turned her phone facedown and addressed the room.

“My son has suffered terribly. This is not punishment. It is protection.”

I almost admired the performance.

Almost.

I stood.

“If this is about my mental health, perhaps the board should hear from my physician.”

Daria’s smile tightened.

“I think that would be inappropriate.”

“More inappropriate than a secret vote?”

Several directors shifted.

I had spent two years pretending to be weaker than I was. Daria had grown comfortable.

That was her first mistake.

My attorney, Evelyn Shaw, entered the room.

My mother’s face hardened.

“Why is she here?”

“Because any vote removing me triggers Article Nine of the company charter.”

One director frowned. “Article Nine?”

Evelyn handed out copies.

“Any attempted removal of the controlling heir requires disclosure of all conflicts of interest among voting directors.”

Two men immediately stopped smiling.

I watched my mother realize the trap.

She had bribed people to vote against me.

Evelyn began naming consulting payments, real estate deals and offshore transfers connected to three directors.

The room erupted.

Daria stood.

“This meeting is adjourned.”

“No,” I said. “It isn’t.”

Her eyes locked onto mine.

For one second we were no longer CEO and chairwoman.

We were mother and son.

And she knew something had changed.

My secure phone buzzed once.

Naomi’s signal.

The surveillance team had reached Hawthorne Ridge.

Then a second message appeared.

MOVEMENT AT REAR BUILDING. POSSIBLE HOSTAGES.

I needed to leave, but leaving too quickly would confirm Daria’s suspicions.

So I sat down.

“Let’s vote.”

The motion failed.

Six to five.

Daria stared at me with quiet fury.

As directors filed out, she blocked the doorway.

“What happened to you today?”

I smiled.

“I got tired of funerals.”

Her expression changed.

Barely.

But enough.

She stepped closer.

“If Catherine were alive, do you think she would forgive you for waiting two years?”

My heart stopped.

Daria had not asked whether Catherine was alive.

She had said if.

But her eyes told me she already knew.

Then Naomi called.

I answered.

“We entered Hawthorne Ridge,” she said.

“Did you find the prisoner?”

A long pause.

“Yes.”

“Who is she?”

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