Chapter 10 - The Reckoning
Old Man Lu didn't raise his cane this time.
He walked slowly across the room until he was standing behind Lu Miaomiao's chair. He looked down at his granddaughter with an expression that was worse than anger—it was absolute, final disgust.
"A laxative," the old man said softly. "In my house. At my table. During a board dinner."
"Grandfather!" Miaomiao wept, dropping her phone as she grabbed the hem of the old man's cardigan. "It was just a joke! I just wanted her to leave! She doesn't belong here! She's a nobody from the slums!"
"She is the wife of the Chairman of Dami Technology," Old Man Lu said, his voice dropping like iron bars closing a cell door. "And you are no longer a member of this family."
Lu Guowei fell to his knees beside his daughter. "Father! Please! She's young! She's foolish! Don't ruin her life over a street girl!"
"Secretary Chen," the old man commanded, ignoring his son completely. "Cancel Lu Miaomiao's trust account in Liechtenstein. Revoke her corporate credit cards. By midnight tonight, her name is to be removed from the family registry. If she is seen on Mount Zixia again, the security detail is authorized to use force."
"Father!" Lu Guowei screamed, his voice breaking into a shriek.
"And you, Guowei," Old Man Lu added, turning his milky, terrifying eyes onto his son. "You will resign your vice-chairmanship of the logistics division tomorrow at nine o'clock. You will surrender your voting proxy to Zongheng. If you hesitate by one minute, I will instruct the legal team to submit the audit files from your Suzhou project directly to the Provincial Prosecutor's Office."
Lu Guowei collapsed onto the floor beside his daughter, his mouth open, his eyes wide with pure, unadulterated horror. He knew what was in the Suzhou audit files—fifteen years of embezzlement that would put him in a maximum-security prison for the rest of his natural life.
The board members sat in complete, frozen silence. Not a single man stood up to defend Lu Guowei. In the cold logic of the corporate world, a fallen vice-chairman was just a carcass; Lu Zongheng was the living king.
Lu Zongheng didn't look at his uncle or his cousin. He turned back to Lin Chen, holding out his hand.
May you like
"Come," he said softly. "The room smells bad."
Lin Chen stood up, her hand sliding naturally into his. His fingers closed around hers—strong, warm, and protective—as he led her out of the dining hall, past the weeping girl in the scarlet dress and the ruined man on the floor, and back into the quiet, dark sanctuary of the East Wing.
