Chapter 2: The Illusions Shattered
Chapter 2: The Illusions Shattered
By 2:00 AM, the boardroom on the top floor of the Grand Imperial looked like a war room. Marcus had managed to override the penthouse lock using a physical master key kept in the maintenance basement, but his fury had turned into blind panic. He had spent the last two hours trying to call his investors, his lawyers, and his board members. Every single call went straight to voicemail, or worse, was answered by a polite, robotic secretary stating that their client had no comment.
Vanessa sat in the corner of the boardroom, her initial arrogance fading into anxiety. "Marcus, people are staring at us through the glass. Why are the security guards looking at you like that?"
"Shut up, Vanessa!" Marcus snapped, sweating through his bespoke suit. "It’s a glitch. A cyberattack. Isabella probably hired some third-rate hacker to mess with my servers out of spite. When I find her, I’ll ensure she leaves this divorce with absolutely nothing."
The heavy double doors of the boardroom swung open.
Marcus spun around, ready to unleash his rage on whoever dared enter. But the words died in his throat. Walking into the room was not a technician or a mid-level manager. It was Mr. Sterling, followed by two armed security guards, and right behind them, looking radiant and completely untouched by the night's events, was Isabella. She had changed into a tailored, midnight-blue velvet suit. Her expression was entirely devoid of the tears she had shed an hour prior.
"Isabella," Marcus hissed, trying to regain his composure. "You have a lot of nerve showing your face back here. I had you evicted. You are trespassing on private corporate property. Security, remove this woman!"
The guards didn't move an inch. Instead, they stepped forward, flanking Isabella like a shield.
"Marcus," Isabella said, her voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. "You always did have a problem with reading the fine print."
Mr. Sterling stepped forward, placing a thick leather-bound dossier on the mahogany table. He slid it across to Marcus. "Mr. Vance-or rather, Mr. Croft, since you'll be dropping the Vance name from your business titles immediately. Please review the original articles of incorporation for Croft-Vance Hospitality, dated eleven years ago."
Marcus frowned, flipping open the folder. "I know what my company documents say. I own fifty-one percent of the operational shares. Isabella owns forty-nine as a silent partner."
"You own fifty-one percent of the operating subsidiary," Isabella corrected gently, leaning against the table. "Which you funded using a massive, low-interest loan provided by an entity called 'The Avalon Group.' Tell me, Marcus, did you ever bother to look up who owns The Avalon Group?"
Marcus’s hand began to shake as he flipped to the final page of the dossier. There, stamped in gold foil, was the ultimate parent company structure. The Avalon Group was a wholly-owned subsidiary of Vance Global Enterprises. And the sole beneficiary, holding a one hundred percent voting share, was Isabella Vance.
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"You... you didn't build this with me," Marcus whispered, the blood draining completely from his face. "You bought me."
"No," Isabella said, her eyes flashing with a cold fire. "I financed a man I thought I loved. But I kept the leash firmly in my hands, just in case you ever forgot who you were. And tonight, you forgot."
