Chapter 2 - The Boardroom Cobra
The grand ballroom of the St. Regis Hotel was filled with the city's elite. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over tuxedos, silk gowns, and silver champagne buckets.
At the head table sat Evelyn Ashford.
At sixty-two, my mother looked magnificent in a dark velvet gown, her silver hair styled impeccably, wearing the multi-million-dollar pearl necklace my father had given her before his sudden heart attack five years ago. She was holding court with three major shareholders of Ashford Holdings, laughing softly at a joke.
When I stepped into the room, her eyes locked onto mine. A subtle look of satisfaction crossed her face. To her, my arrival proved I was still her obedient puppet.
"Daniel, darling," Evelyn said, extending a gloved hand as I approached. "You're late. I was beginning to think you'd forgotten your duties."
"Never, Mother," I replied smoothly, pressing a cold kiss against her cheek. "Traffic was heavy."
"Sit," she instructed, pointing to the chair on her right—the seat of the dutiful heir. "The board is preparing to vote on the restructuring plan after dessert. Once we absorb the remaining trust shares, Ashford Holdings will finally be unified under our family's absolute control."
Unified under her control. The restructuring plan was designed to dissolve the protective trust my father had set up for my future wife and children, transferring all voting rights directly to Evelyn.
"A monumental night," I said, taking a glass of sparkling water from a waiter. "Speaking of the trust... I was looking over the old probate files this afternoon."
Evelyn’s smile didn't fade, but her posture stiffened by a fraction of a millimeter. "Why would you waste your time on ancient history, Daniel? The past is buried."
"Is it?" I asked, looking directly into her eyes. "I was thinking about Lena."
The shareholders at the table went quiet. Mentioning Lena’s name had been a strict taboo in my mother’s presence for two years.
Evelyn’s eyes narrowed into slits of ice. "Daniel, we have discussed this. Reopening those wounds on a night this important is morbid and disrespectful to the board."
"Dr. Mercer called me an hour ago," I lied effortlessly, keeping my voice conversational. "He said state investigators were asking for the original physical dental charts from the accident."
Evelyn’s fingers tightened around her wine glass until her knuckles turned white. For a split second, sheer, unadulterated panic flickered in her eyes before she forced a soft, tragic sigh.
"Poor Dr. Mercer," she said smoothly, wiping her lip with a linen napkin. "The man is old and confused. I'll have our legal team handle it tomorrow. Now, let us focus on the vote."
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She thought she was in control. She thought a phone call to her dirty doctor would fix everything.
What she didn't know was that Marcus Vance's team had raided Dr. Mercer’s private clinic twenty minutes ago, catching him in the act of burning original medical ledgers.
