Chapter 6 - THE LEGAL CHECKMATE
Christopher’s face cycled through three distinct shades of crimson. He turned frantically to his corporate attorney, who was sweating profusely and frantically flipping through the pages of his leather briefcase.
“Is this true?!” Christopher roared at his lawyer.
“Mr. Hale, the... the subsidiary transfer was executed yesterday by an independent holding trust,” the lawyer stammered, his voice cracking. “We... we didn't flag it because the buyer used an anonymous Delaware LLC...”
Christopher whipped his head back toward Ethan, his eyes wide with fury and disbelief. “You... you set up a shell company? You orchestrated a hostile debt takeover of your own studio?”
“I learned from the best,” Ethan replied coldly. Then, his eyes flicked past Christopher, locking onto me standing a few feet away.
I gave him a subtle, encouraging nod.
Christopher’s chest heaved. He looked around the studio at the employees watching him in stunned silence, realizing that his absolute power had just hit an immovable wall. For the first time in his life, he couldn't bully, buy, or threaten his way out of a situation.
“You think this makes you a businessman?” Christopher snarled, his voice trembling with humiliated rage as he pointed a shaking finger at Ethan. “You’re nothing! You’re a deaf mistake hiding behind a borrowed desk and a bitter, fired waitress!”
Before Ethan could answer, I stepped past the drafting table, closing the distance between Christopher Hale and myself.
“Mr. Hale,” I said, my voice cutting through the heavy air with razor-sharp calm.
Christopher glared down at me with pure venom. “You. I should have had you thrown in prison when I had the chance.”
“You didn't have the chance then, and you certainly don't have it now,” I replied smoothly. I reached into my blazer pocket, pulled out a crisp, folded legal document, and unfolded it, holding it out at eye level. “As the newly appointed Chief Operations Officer of Hale Studio, I am officially serving you with a restraining order and a formal notice of commercial harassment. If you or your representatives step foot within five hundred feet of this property again, we will enforce immediate asset seizure of your personal vehicles to cover legal damages.”
Christopher stared at the paper. The official court seal stamped in gold at the top gleamed under the industrial lights.
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“You... you can't do this,” Christopher whispered, the sheer absurdity of a former waitress legally boxing him out finally breaking his brain.
“Watch me,” I smiled sweetly.
