Chapter 3 - The Boardroom Ambush
The following morning at ten o'clock sharp, the executive boardroom of Moretti Holdings was packed to capacity. The company’s institutional investors, venture capitalists, and the family trust representatives sat around a thirty-foot walnut conference table. At the head of the table sat Marcus Moretti, Vincent’s half-brother—a smooth, predatory corporate climber who had spent a decade waiting for Vincent to slip.
"The rumors are confirmed," Marcus announced, adjusting his microphone as the screen behind him displayed sliding stock prices. "Over the last forty-eight hours, Moretti Holdings has dropped four point two percent due to rumors of executive misconduct and an impending, messy divorce. Vincent’s personal life is a liability. Under Section 14B of our shareholder bylaws, if a majority shareholder undergoes a divorce that jeopardizes core intellectual property, the board has the right to freeze executive voting rights."
"Section 14B does not apply when the majority shareholder has not filed for dissolution," Vincent’s voice cut through the room like a blade.
The heavy mahogany doors swung open. Vincent stepped inside, perfectly tailored in a charcoal Tom Ford suit. He was shaved, his posture rigid, but the predatory edge in his eyes was sharper than anyone had ever seen. Behind him walked his chief legal counsel, Arthur Vance.
Marcus chuckled softly. "Ah, Vincent. Nice of you to join us. But I'm afraid you're misinformed. Arthur Vance doesn't hold the IP rights. The proprietary algorithms running our core software don't belong to the corporation. They were licensed to us under an exclusive five-year agreement by an independent entity—Aegis Tech Holdings."
Vincent frowned, taking his seat at the head of the table. "Aegis Tech is a subsidiary of my personal holding trust."
"Was," a clear, melodic voice echoed from the doorway.
Every head in the room snapped toward the entrance.
I walked into the boardroom wearing an emerald-green pantsuit, my back straight, my heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor. Beside me walked Lauren Mitchell, carrying a thick leather dossier, and behind us were two federal patent attorneys.
Vincent stood up so quickly his heavy leather chair skidded back against the wall. "Claire."
His voice was a raw, breathless plea. He looked at me as if he were dying of thirst and I was the ocean. His eyes immediately dropped to my stomach, searching, scanning for any physical sign of the secret he believed I carried.
I did not look into his eyes. I kept my gaze steady on the boardroom table.
"Good morning, gentlemen," I said, setting my purse down on the table. "Marcus is correct on one point: Aegis Tech does hold the proprietary patents to the predictive logistics models that generate eighty percent of Moretti Holdings' quarterly profits. However, Marcus is incorrect about ownership."
Lauren opened her briefcase, sliding twenty identical copies of a registered corporate charter across the table.
"Aegis Tech was founded using my personal inheritance from the Sterling estate," I explained calmly to the stunned board members. "When Vincent and I married seven years ago, I granted Moretti Holdings an exclusive operating license. That license contains a standard moral turpitude and breach of fiduciary contract clause. Paragraph nine clearly states that in the event of gross personal misconduct that damages the reputation of the licensor, Aegis Tech retains the sole right to revoke all software permissions with twenty-four hours' notice."
A collective gasp swept through the room. Billion-dollar fund managers scrambled for the documents, flipping frantically to page nine.
Marcus’s face went completely pale. "This... this is an extortionate bluff. Claire, you can't bankrupt your husband's company!"
"He isn't my husband anymore," I replied, turning my head to look directly at Vincent for the first time. "I served his legal team with our divorce petition forty-five minutes ago. And unless the board immediately ratifies my terms for an amicable, uncontested split, I will pull the server licenses tonight at midnight. The Moretti stock won't drop four percent tomorrow. It will drop to zero."
May you like
Vincent didn't look at the papers. He didn't look at Marcus or the terrified board members. He simply walked toward me, stopping just two feet away, completely ignoring the cameras and the dozens of executives staring at us.
"Claire," he whispered, his chest heaving. "Forget the company. Forget the money. You can have all of it. Every single cent. Just tell me... were you at the clinic for what I think you were? Are you having our baby?"
