Chapter 6 - The Media Storm
By Monday morning, the corporate world had exploded.
I was standing by Leo’s hospital bed, helping him assemble a plastic Lego helicopter while he ate a bowl of hospital-approved oatmeal, when my phone started vibrating nonstop on the bedside table.
I picked it up.
Financial Times: Vance Holdings Stock Dips Following CEO's Abrupt Engagement Cancellation. Chicago Tribune: Tech Billionaire Ryan Vance Embroiled in Secret Family Scandal. Page Six: Who is Grace Vance? The Mysterious Ex-Wife and Triplets Hiding in Plain Sight.
Accompanying the articles were grainy paparazzi photographs taken through the hospital lobby glass late last night—pictures of me arguing with my mother, pictures of Grace holding the twins, and a crystal-clear shot of Leo’s face staring directly out the window.
My mother hadn't just threatened me; she had acted. By leaking the story to the press, she hoped to force my hand, publicly embarrassing me into distancing myself from Grace and the children to protect the company's valuation.
The door to the suite pushed open, and my chief operating officer, David Chen, walked in, looking pale and clutching an iPad.
"Ryan," David said breathlessly, glancing nervously at Grace, who was busy folding hospital blankets by the sofa. "Have you seen the morning feeds? The board is in absolute panic. Institutional investors are calling my desk every five minutes asking if you're stepping down. The market opens in forty minutes, and we're looking at a ten-percent correction across the board."
I didn't look up from the Lego helicopter I was helping Leo snap together. "Let them call."
"Ryan, be reasonable!" David pressed, stepping closer. "Your mother has already scheduled an emergency board meeting for noon. She’s invoking Section 4 of the corporate bylaws—claiming moral turpitude and executive instability. She has enough proxy votes to strip you of your voting shares!"
I finally stood up, towering over David in the small hospital room. My expression was cold, hard, and utterly immovable—the exact expression my grandfather had used when taking over hostile competitors.
"Tell the board to cancel their meetings," I said quietly, every word dropping like lead weights. "Tell them that at twelve-fifteen, I will be holding a live press conference from the lobby of Vance Holdings. And make sure my mother’s seat in the front row is reserved."
David swallowed hard, recognizing the look in my eye. He nodded once. "Understood, Ryan. I'll set it up."
As David hurried out of the room, Grace walked over, her green eyes filled with sudden apprehension. "You're going to war with your own board over us? Ryan, your company... everything you've built..."
"Is just software and servers, Grace," I interrupted, walking over to her and taking her hands. "I spent ten years building an empire because I thought that's what made a man successful. But standing here watching Leo smile at a toy helicopter while you hold our girls... I realized I was a pauper sitting on a pile of gold."
I looked down at Leo, who was holding the completed Lego helicopter with a look of intense satisfaction.
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"I have to go downtown," I said to Grace. "Will you be okay here for a couple of hours? I have Marcus—well, not Marcus anymore, I'm firing him today—I have security stationed outside the door. Nobody gets in."
Grace gave a small, resolute nod, a ghost of a smile touching her lips. "Go. Show them who they're dealing with."
