Chapter 2
The following morning brought a storm,
rain lashing violently against the towering windows of the Blackwood estate.
I sat at the head of the massive mahogany dining table,
a cup of black coffee resting in my hands.
Files were spread out before me,
dossiers on every executive connected to Ethan's former law firm.
Gabriel walked in,
tossing a sleek tablet onto the polished wood.
"They made a move,"
he announced,
taking the seat to my right.
I swiped the screen,
my eyes scanning the encrypted message intercepted by our security team.
It was a threat,
thinly veiled as a corporate buyout offer for my personal shares.
"They think they can intimidate me,"
I muttered,
reading the absurdly low numbers.
"They think you are a grieving mother,"
Gabriel pointed out,
"traumatized and eager to wash your hands of the business."
I took a slow sip of coffee,
the bitter taste grounding my thoughts.
"We have a board meeting at noon,"
I stated,
standing up from the table.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow,
clearly surprised by my sudden decision.
"Are you sure you are ready for that,"
he asked,
though I could hear the approval in his tone.
"I have never been more ready,"
I replied,
heading toward the grand staircase.
An hour later,
I stood before the floor-to-ceiling mirror in my dressing room.
Gone were the pastel sweaters and soft dresses Ethan had always preferred.
I wore a tailored charcoal suit,
sharp and unforgiving.
My hair was pulled back tightly,
revealing the sharp angles of my face.
When I stepped out of the private elevator at Blackwood Tower,
the entire executive floor fell completely silent.
Men and women in expensive suits stopped what they were doing,
staring at the ghost who had suddenly returned to claim her throne.
I didn't smile,
and I didn't offer greetings.
I walked directly into the glass-walled boardroom,
where the senior partners were already seated.
They scrambled to stand,
muttering awkward apologies and clumsy condolences.
I ignored them all,
taking the chair at the absolute head of the table.
"Sit,"
I commanded,
and they dropped into their seats like obedient children.
"As of this morning,"
I began,
my voice projecting effortlessly across the vast room,
"I am resuming my role as majority shareholder and Head of Strategic Acquisitions."
A balding man to my left cleared his throat nervously.
"Mara,"
he started,
"we thought you needed time to recover from your... ordeal."
I turned my gaze toward him,
letting the silence stretch until he began to sweat.
"My ordeal,"
I said smoothly,
"was a temporary lapse in judgment regarding my choice of company."
"That lapse has been corrected,"
I continued,
"and anyone who believes it makes me a liability is welcome to tender their resignation immediately."
No one moved,
and no one breathed.
"Furthermore,"
I added,
sliding a folder across the sleek table,
"we are severing all ties with these three investment groups."
The executives gasped,
looking at the names of the firms Ethan had colluded with.
"They are powerful enemies,"
one woman whispered,
her eyes wide with panic.
"They are parasites,"
I corrected sharply,
"and I am the cure."
Gabriel stood near the door,
his arms crossed,
watching the room with quiet satisfaction.
I was no longer Ethan's victim,
curled on a marble floor tasting my own blood.
May you like
I was Mara Blackwood,
and the hunt had just begun.
