After 144 hours with his mistress, my husband finally remembered his pregnant wife. The trembling aide told him: 'sir, your wife bled out and lst the son you abandoned. She already signed the divorce papers and walked away!'

The boardroom of Vale Meridian on the thirty-fourth floor was designed to intimidate. Massive mahogany tables, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking downtown, and the corporate seal etched into the glass wall commanded absolute authority. At exactly nine o'clock, Arthur Pendelton slid the heavy glass doors closed.

Around the table sat the five senior directors of Vale Meridian: Chief Financial Officer Harold Vance, Chief Operating Officer Sandra Reed, Head of Human Resources Marcus Sterling, and two independent board members. They all looked bewildered.

"Arthur, where is Julian?" Harold Vance asked, adjusting his glasses. "His secretary said he was flying back from Napa today, but he hasn't checked into his office. And what is this about an emergency quorum?"

Arthur didn't answer. He simply gestured to the head of the table—the massive leather executive chair reserved for the primary stakeholder.

The door at the end of the boardroom opened quietly.

A collective gasp echoed through the room. I walked in wearing a tailored black wool coat, my face pale, dark circles shadowing my eyes, but my posture rigid and unyielding. An IV bandage was still visible on the back of my right hand. Behind me rolled Maya, carrying a thick stack of audited financial reports.

"Evelyn?" Sandra Reed stood up half an inch, her mouth open. "Good grief, you look... where is the baby? We heard you were due next month—"

"My son is dead," I interrupted, my voice cutting through the heavy air of the room like a scalpel.

Dead silence fell over the boardroom. Even Harold Vance swallowed hard, looking away from my piercing gaze.

"He died two nights ago," I continued, walking slowly to the head of the table and placing my hands on the polished mahogany. "While my husband, your CEO, was unreachable in Napa with Chloe Marr. While I was on an operating table losing four liters of blood, Julian Vale was ignoring my calls because he was too busy entertaining his mistress on corporate expense accounts."

Marcus Sterling, the HR head, flushed crimson. "Evelyn, that is... a private domestic matter, horrifying as it is, but board meetings are for corporate governance—"

"This is corporate governance, Marcus," I snapped, sitting down in the head chair. "Open your tablets. Look at document 4A."

Marcus tapped his screen. Within seconds, his eyes widened in sheer horror.

Projected onto the main wall screen was a detailed forensic audit of corporate expenditures over the last fourteen months. It wasn't just the Napa resort trip. It was luxury apartments leased in downtown Manhattan under phantom consulting fees, first-class international flights for Chloe Marr booked under 'client acquisition,' and unauthorized stock options transferred to shell companies owned by Chloe's brother.

"Embezzlement," Harold gasped, reading the line items. "Over two point four million dollars in corporate funds diverted to personal assets."

"And that," I said calmly, "is just the tip of the iceberg. Under Section 8 of the corporate bylaws, any executive officer engaging in financial fraud, misuse of corporate assets, or moral turpitude that brings public disrepute to Vale Meridian is subject to immediate suspension pending an internal investigation."

"We can't vote on a suspension without Julian present to defend himself," Sandra protested nervously. "He holds the voting proxy—"

I slid a legal document across the table toward her.

"He doesn't hold anything anymore," I said. "As of 7:30 AM today, I have officially revoked my voting proxy. I hold fifty-two percent of the voting shares. I am exercising my rights as primary shareholder."

Arthur Pendelton stood up, opening his leather portfolio. "All in favor of immediately suspending Julian Vale as CEO of Vale Meridian and initiating a criminal investigation for corporate fraud, raise your hands."