Two weeks later, the Grant Enterprises headquarters in Geneva announced a high-profile shareholders’ meeting. Ready to take over and proclaim Isabella legally missing, Richard showed up in a fitted suit with Vanessa on his arm. Reporters waited outside, sensing drama, while whispers echoed through the boardroom.
With an air of authority, Richard cleared his throat. I regret to inform you, ladies and gentlemen, that my wife, Isabella Grant, perished at sea. I shall assume stewardship of the business as her spouse and closest relative—”
A cool voice cut in, “Correction.”
All heads turned.
Isabella entered through the wide doors, glowing and full of vitality. Her presence was dominating, her pregnancy now obvious. Richard’s face became pale, and gasps reverberated around the room.
“Isabella?” he stumbled to say.
“You seem taken aback, Richard,” she said calmly as she placed a folder on the table. “You and your boyfriend are caught on tape plotting my assassination. I have forwarded copies to the relevant authorities already.
The room exploded. Reporters fumbled for their phones, board members muttered wildly, and Vanessa moved away from Richard’s side, her face white.
Daniel and two security officers stopped Richard before he could reach Isabella, forcing him to the ground. At Isabella’s request, police officers who had already been waiting outside hurried inside.
Isabella stated in a firm voice, each word as cutting as a sword, “You attempted to murder the mother of your child.” You undervalued both our child and me. That was your most recent error.
Vanessa attempted to creep toward the exit as Richard was hauled away in handcuffs, but Isabella’s stare stopped her in her tracks. “You will also be held accountable for your role in this.”
The meeting ended in pandemonium, but it also brought clarity: Isabella’s opponents were exposed, and her rule remained unchallenged.
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