forwarded them to our home printer.
You asked me to replace the paper when it jammed.”
A junior attorney at the table covered a cough.
For the first time, Kenton seemed to understand that his downfall had not required spies, hidden cameras, or sophisticated surveillance.
It had required only the arrogance to believe that the woman living beside him did not understand what she saw.
He looked at Nolan.
“What do you want? Money? A board seat for her? I can negotiate.”
Nolan’s gaze cooled.
“You still think this is a negotiation.”
Margaret spoke from the screen.
“The board met at seven this morning.
Northstar exercised its conversion rights after receiving the preliminary audit findings.
The resolution passed forty minutes ago.”
Kenton gripped the back of his chair.
“What resolution?”
“You have been removed as chief executive officer for cause, effective immediately.”
Bianca inhaled sharply.
Kenton stared at the screen.
“You can’t remove the founder one month before an IPO.”
“The IPO has been postponed,” Margaret said.
“The company will issue a disclosure after counsel completes its review.”
“You’ll destroy the valuation.”
“Your conduct created that risk.
Our responsibility is to prevent further damage.”
Kenton turned to his own legal team.
“Do something.”
Mr.
Vale closed the divorce folder.
“My firm represents you in the marital matter.
We do not represent you in a federal securities investigation.”
“Then call someone who does.”
“You should do that immediately.”
Kenton’s phone vibrated against the table.
Then it vibrated again.
Messages filled the screen faster than he could read them.
His chief financial officer had been placed on administrative leave.
His building access had been suspended.
The company’s communications director needed approval for a press statement.
Reporters were asking why the IPO roadshow had been canceled.
Then a final notification appeared from VisionCore security.
EXECUTIVE CREDENTIALS DEACTIVATED.
Kenton pressed his thumb against the screen until it stopped shaking.
“This company is nothing without me.”
Elise looked at him for a long moment.
“That is what you trained everyone to believe.”
He rounded on her.
“You planned this from the beginning.
You married me because your father wanted the company.”
The accusation was so detached from reality that even Bianca looked embarrassed.
Elise remained seated.
“When I married you, VisionCore had four employees and sixty-three dollars in its operating account,” she said.
“I married you because I loved you.”
Her voice softened, and that softness carried more weight than anger.
“I asked my father to save the company because I loved you.
I stayed anonymous because I wanted you to believe your success was your own.
I did not understand that once you believed it, you would decide everyone who helped you was disposable.”
Kenton’s expression shifted.
For one brief second, regret appeared—not for betraying her, but for miscalculating her value.
“Elise, we can fix this privately.
Withdraw the complaint.
Tell the board this was a marital misunderstanding.
I’ll revise the settlement.”
Bianca pushed back from the table.
“Revise it how?”
He ignored her.
“You can keep the penthouse,” he told Elise.
“You can have whatever amount you want.”
Nolan’s jaw tightened, but Elise lifted one hand, asking him to remain silent.
“Ten minutes ago, you offered me grocery money,” she said.
“I was angry.”
“You brought your mistress to watch me sign away
