Chapter 4 - The Predator's Trap
Vivian Bradford burst into my boardroom like a hurricane, followed closely by two private photographers and her personal public relations manager. She had traded her wedding gown for a sharp, aggressive designer suit, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on Garrett.
"Garrett! Thank God you're here!" Vivian cried out with fake, theatrical emotion. She immediately turned to the cameras. "Capture this! The Bradford family reuniting with our long-lost grandchildren! Audrey, you sly girl, you kept our beautiful boys hidden from us, but the Bradford family forgives you! We are ready to welcome our heirs home to the mansion!"
I stood up slowly, not missing a single beat. "Turn off the cameras, Vivian. Your cheap PR stunts don't work in my building."
Vivian’s fake warmth vanished instantly. She signaled the photographers to step back outside the room, shutting the door heavily. She walked up to the edge of the glass table, leaning over it, her face twisted in desperation.
"Listen to me, you ungrateful little girl," Vivian whispered viciously. "The Senator pulled all his funding. Our stock is crashing because of the scandal you caused at the wedding. But these triplets... these boys are our salvation. The public loves a dramatic family reunion story. We will issue a joint press release. You will bring the boys to live at the mansion, we will announce a massive trust fund for them, and the Bradford name will recover."
"And if I say no?" I asked, completely unfazed.
"If you say no, I will destroy you," Vivian threatened, her voice shaking with venom. "I have already hired the top family law attorneys in the country. We will tie you up in custody battles for the next ten years. I will claim you are an unstable CEO who isolates her children. I will drag your digital media company through the mud until your clients leave you. You think because you have a few million dollars you can challenge the Bradford legacy?"
Garrett stood up, his face red with anger. "Mother, stop! Shut up! You ruined my life once, I won't let you touch my sons!"
"Shut up, Garrett!" Vivian snapped at her own son. "I am saving this family! You are too soft to do what's necessary!"
I couldn't help but laugh out loud. The sound echoed through the quiet boardroom, making Vivian freeze in confusion.
"You really think you're still holding the cards, don't you, Vivian?" I asked, pulling out my tablet and sliding it across the glass table toward her. "Take a look at the live market feed."
Vivian looked down at the tablet. Her eyes widened, her chest heaving as she stared at the glowing numbers.
"What... what is this?" she stammered.
"Over the last forty-eight hours, while your stock was crashing, an anonymous shell company bought up every single desperate share being sold by your panicked investors," I explained smoothly. "That shell company is a subsidiary of Vance Holding Group. As of ten minutes ago, Vivian... I own 51% of Bradford Logistics. I am now the majority shareholder. I don't just challenge the Bradford legacy—I own it."
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Vivian collapsed into the nearest leather chair, her face completely pale, her breath catching in her throat.
"And as the majority owner," I continued, leaning down so my face was inches from hers, "my very first executive order is to evict you from the Bradford estate. The mansion belongs to the company, Vivian. And you are officially fired."
