Chapter 5 - The Anchor Drops
Grant had immediately called an emergency board meeting following the press conference to officially transfer my voting shares into his name. The glass-walled boardroom on the fiftieth floor was packed with somber executives and a very smug Vanessa, who was already mentally spending my money.
Grant stood at the head of the table. “Thank you all for your support. Emma would have wanted us to move forward—”
The heavy oak doors to the boardroom swung open.
The silence that fell over the room was so absolute, it felt as though the oxygen had been sucked into a vacuum.
I walked into the boardroom. I was not a ghost. I was a very pregnant, very alive, and very furious CEO. Flanking me were two plainclothes detectives and my attorney.
Grant froze. The blood drained from his face so rapidly he looked like a corpse. His jaw dropped, his hands gripping the edge of the mahogany table as his knees buckled.
“Emma?” he choked out, the sound barely a whisper.
Vanessa let out a blood-curdling shriek, stumbling backward out of her chair until she hit the glass wall.
“Hello, Grant,” I said, my voice echoing with an absolute, uncompromising authority. I walked calmly toward the head of the table. “I understand you were just discussing my legacy.”
“You... you drowned,” Grant stammered, entirely abandoning his polished facade. He was hyperventilating, his eyes darting frantically toward the exits. “I saw you go under!”
“You watched me go under,” I corrected him, turning my attention to the horrified board members. “Gentlemen. My husband did not suffer a tragic loss this weekend. He and his mistress attempted to murder me and my unborn child to cover up the theft of thirty million dollars in corporate assets.”
“She’s lying!” Vanessa screamed, pointing a shaking finger at me. “She’s crazy! She fell!”
I didn't argue. I simply nodded to Marcus.
Marcus plugged a tablet into the boardroom’s central console. The massive projection screen behind Grant flared to life.
The room gasped in unified horror as the crystal-clear, high-definition video from Grant’s own hidden phone began to play. They watched Vanessa violently shove a pregnant woman over the railing. They heard my desperate screams. And they watched their beloved CEO stand perfectly still, staring at the water with cold, dead eyes before driving away.
Grant stared at the screen, his entire reality shattering into a million irreparable pieces. He had recorded his own demise.
The detectives stepped forward, pulling a pair of heavy steel handcuffs from their belts.
“Grant Ashford and Vanessa Carter,” the lead detective announced, grabbing Grant’s arm and spinning him around. “You are both under arrest for grand larceny, corporate fraud, and the attempted first-degree murder of Emma Bennett-Ashford.”
“Emma, please!” Grant sobbed, falling to his knees as the cuffs clicked tightly around his wrists. The arrogant, untouchable billionaire was entirely gone, replaced by a pathetic, weeping coward. “I’m sorry! I panicked! Please don’t take my life away!”
I looked down at the man I had once loved. I placed my hand protectively over my stomach, feeling my baby kick strongly against my palm.
“You threw your life into the ocean, Grant,” I whispered softly. “I just survived the splash.”
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I turned my back on him as the police dragged a screaming Vanessa and a sobbing Grant out of the boardroom. I took my rightful seat at the head of the table, looking at the stunned, silent executives who were staring at me in absolute awe.
“Now,” I said, opening a fresh financial dossier. “Let’s discuss the future of my company.”
