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Chapter 4 - The Boardroom Awakening

By Monday morning, the financial markets had opened to a seismic shockwave that reverberated from Wall Street to the international exchanges in London and Tokyo.

Apex Global Holdings Announces Immediate Restructuring and Asset Recall of Morrison Enterprises.

The headline flashed across financial news terminals in every major trading floor. Within twenty minutes of the opening bell, Morrison Enterprises stock—traditionally stable due to its long-standing government supply contracts—plummeted by eighty-four percent. Trading was abruptly halted.

I sat in the executive penthouse suite on the eighty-fifth floor of Apex Tower, overlooking the sprawling metropolis below. The room was bathed in the cool, natural light of dawn. On the mahogany conference table before me lay a steaming cup of herbal tea and the finalized draft of my divorce petition, alongside complete custody protection orders.

Arthur stood quietly by the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, reviewing a tablet filled with emergency corporate filings.

"Madam Chair," Arthur said without turning around. "We've received forty-seven urgent communications from Morrison Enterprises board members and regional creditors. They are claiming complete ignorance of Brendan and Diane’s financial embezzlement. They’re begging for an audience."

"Let them beg," I replied, taking a calm sip of my tea. "Did we secure the forensic audit of Diane’s personal accounts?"

"Complete and thorough," Arthur confirmed, turning around with a thin, satisfied smile. "It turns out Diane wasn't just living beyond her means; she was systematically siphoning R&D funds from our subsidiary medical tech division to fund her private art collection and Jessica’s family trust. Federal indictments for corporate wire fraud and embezzlement are being finalized as we speak."

A soft chime echoed from the executive double doors. My personal assistant, Elena, stepped inside carrying a thick leather-bound portfolio.

"Excuse me, Madam Chair," Elena said respectfully. "There is someone downstairs in the secure lobby demanding to see you. Refusing to leave."

I raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Brendan Morrison."

Arthur’s expression darkened instantly. "Shall I have building security escort him off the property, Madam? Or shall I call state troopers to enforce the restraining order we filed this morning?"

May you like

I smiled faintly, setting my teacup down on its saucer.

"No, Arthur," I said smoothly, standing up and smoothing down my charcoal-grey executive blazer. "Let him up. I want to see what a man looks like when he realizes he has traded an empire for a bucket of dirty water."

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