I didn’t scream.
I didn’t call Adrian again.
Instead, I asked Noah to bring me my laptop.
Adrian had always believed Vale Meridian belonged to him because magazines printed his name beneath the word CEO.
He had forgotten how he got that chair.
My late father founded the company.
After his death, fifty-two percent of the voting shares passed into a family trust.
I was the sole trustee.
For five years, I allowed Adrian to vote my proxy because I loved him.
I also allowed him to believe that my distance from daily operations meant I knew nothing about what was happening inside the company.
He was wrong.
That morning, from my hospital room, I revoked his proxy.
Then I called our outside counsel.
“Prepare the divorce filing,” I said.
“And schedule an emergency board meeting.”
The lawyer hesitated.
“Claire, are you sure?”
I looked toward the empty bassinet across the room, where morning light fell across untouched blankeTS.
