The air in the boardroom was thick with tension, a three-way standoff that had been brewing for years now.
Clyde, with his years of running the show, had a solid base of support. People respected his hustle, admired how he’d turned the family business into a powerhouse.
York, on the other hand, was a force of his own. His faction was loud, their presence undeniable, a testament to his charisma and knack for rallying the troops.
And then there were the fence-sitters, the ones whose loyalty could be bought with the promise of profit. To them, it didn’t matter who sat in the driver’s seat, as long as the money kept rolling in.
But amidst this power play, a peculiar silence loomed over Clyde’s recent troubles. No one dared mention his accident, the whispers of amnesia. In the grand scheme of things, personal woes were trivial, so long as they didn’t rock the boat.
I found myself cornered at a table near the exit with Fenton, both of us silent observers to the unfolding drama. Fenton’s worried glance met my resigned shake of the head. Speaking up now would only paint targets on our backs.
The argument reached its boiling point when Clyde slammed his hand down on the table, the sound echoing through the tension.
“Enough! My personal life is exactly that-personal! It has nothing to do with the board!” His gaze, filled with bitterness, locked onto me. “Melanie, this is all your fault! If it wasn’t for your relentless pursuit back then…”
“Enough!” Merritt’s voice cut through, his cane rapping against the floor for emphasis, a clear sign of his displeasure.
York’s snicker from the sidelines just added fuel to the fire.
“Blaming others now? Weren’t you the one chasing after her?” “Shut it!” Merritt’s glare silenced York instantly.
It was clear Merritt’s intention was to maintain the family’s facade of dignity. Clyde could be a playboy,
even despised for his fickle heart et
but madness, amnesia? That was off the table. Merritt was still weighing who was best to lead, ensuring Clyde remained→
untarnished was paramount.
Taking a deep breath, Clyde bowed deeply towards Merritt. “Grandfather, I apologize for any damage my personal matters have caused the company. I’ll take full responsibility.”
“How exactly?” York’s right-hand man was quick to challenge. “With losses in the millions, do you plan to reimburse us personally? Money aside, what about the company’s reputation?” The room buzzed with concern over the company’s tarnished image and its future prospects.
Clyde’s eyes briefly met mine before he dropped the bombshell. “I’ll divorce Melanie.”
The declaration stunned the room into silence. My heart sank, my grip tightening on my hands beneath the table, a futile attempt to steady myself.
I reminded myself this wasn’t the first heartbreak, but the public humiliation, his cold resolve it all made my resolve crumble, my body tremble uncontrollably.
Ignoring the shocked stares, Clyde’s
gaze returned to Merritt.
“Grandfather, marrying the woman love doesn’t make me a scoundrel Proving Melanie’s child isn’t mine’ gives me a reason for my actions, diverting the public’s blame away from both me and the company…”
“What?” I couldn’t hide my shock, my voice barely a whisper.
There was a fleeting moment of struggle in his eyes, a hint of guilt, but it was quickly overshadowed by determination.
“I never wanted to marry her; she forced herself on me.”
“Since you’ve enjoyed the privileges of being Mrs. Patterson, living a life of luxury, it’s only fair you contribute something to the company, isn’t it?”
His gaze, devoid of any warmth,
filled only with disdain. “Melanie,
besides, the child in your womb isn’t mine. Why else would you schedule an abortion? Let’s not play innocent; this was a transaction, nothing more.”