Chapter 7 7

Handy Morgan, still dusting off his ruined suit, tried to regain some semblance of control. "You have the shares, fine! But you have zero experience running a company of this size. The board will never stand for it."

"He's right," Javon chimed in, seizing the opportunity. "Starlight's Q3 profits are down five percent. Wall Street needs a steady hand, not... a scandal."

A few of the directors, particularly those representing investment firms, nodded in agreement, their faces etched with concern.

Adelina didn't argue. She didn't defend herself. She simply tapped on her tablet and a new image flashed onto the large projection screen. It was a complex spreadsheet, a web of offshore accounts and wire transfers.

"This," Adelina said, her voice dangerously calm, "is a record of every dollar your wife, Brandi Morgan, has embezzled from this company over the past three years through a series of shell corporations."

Handy stared at the screen. He recognized the account numbers. The blood drained from his face, leaving it a pasty, sickly gray.

"Not only is it a violation of your prenuptial agreement," Adelina continued, her words like chips of ice, "it's also felony embezzlement. If I were to forward this to the SEC, your entire family would be facing prison time."

Beads of sweat popped up on Javon's forehead. He knew if the Securities and Exchange Commission started digging, they would find his own dirty little secrets as well.

The room was dead silent. The board members stared at Handy and Javon with a mixture of shock and contempt.

Handy collapsed into a chair, his fight gone. "What do you want?" he whispered, his voice trembling.

Adelina swiped the screen blank. She steepled her fingers under her chin, the picture of calm, calculated power. "I want full operational authority. Unfettered. No board oversight for the next six months."

A director from a Wall Street firm immediately objected. "That's unprecedented! It violates every principle of corporate governance."

"Then let's make a deal," Adelina said, smoothly pivoting. She had been waiting for this. "A performance-based agreement."

She stood, her presence commanding the room. "I will increase Starlight's core profit margin by ten percent in the next six months."

A gasp went through the room. In the current market, that was a near-impossible goal.

"If I fail," she declared, "I will voluntarily resign as CEO, and I will transfer ten percent of my personal shares to the board, to be distributed pro-rata."

Gage, who had been watching silently, felt his jaw tighten. He knew the company's books. He knew about the rot Javon had hidden. This wasn't a bold move; it was a trap, and she had just walked right into it.

Javon's eyes lit up with a manic glee. She was handing him the gun to shoot herself. "I agree to those terms!" he said quickly, before anyone could object.

"Adelina, my dear, perhaps we should reconsider..." Horatio began, his voice filled with worry.

She silenced him with a sharp, determined look.

Driven by the promise of free shares, the board voted unanimously to approve the agreement. The company's legal counsel, already present, quickly drafted the terms.

Adelina signed the document without a moment's hesitation, her signature a bold, defiant slash of ink.

The meeting was adjourned. The directors filed out, some casting her looks of admiration, others of pity. Javon walked past her, leaning in to whisper, "You're finished," before leaving with a triumphant smirk. Handy shuffled out like a man who had aged twenty years in an hour.

Soon, only she and Gage remained in the vast, silent room.

The adrenaline began to fade, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion. Adelina sank back into her chair, rubbing her temples.

Gage stood up and walked over to her, his shadow falling over her. "You're not just a fool," he said, his voice a low, contemptuous growl. "You're a suicidal one."

He leaned down, his hands on the arms of her chair, trapping her again. "You have no idea what's really happening in this company. You just signed your own death warrant."

She looked up, her eyes blazing with defiance. "As long as I don't have to partner with a vulture like you, I'll find a way to win."

His eyes darkened, turning almost black. "Then you better pray," he whispered, his lips so close to her ear she could feel the warmth of his breath, "that you never, ever need my help."