Ch-34

•~•Aziel’s POV

The car was parked in the far corner of the lot, engine off, windows slightly fogged from my breath.

I sat alone in the back seat, phone pressed to my ear, the voice crackling through.

“I made the right call,” the voice said, calm and confident. “Involving Irene was the best decision. You might not see it now.”

My jaw tightened.

I clenched my fist against the leather seat, knuckles turning white as anger boiled in my chest. My brows furrowed, my breath shallow.

“I don’t give a damn if you thought it was the right call,” I ground out. “I agreed to be your ally on two conditions… That Irene’s identity stayed a secret—and that you wouldn’t drag her into this. Ever.”

I paused, my voice growing lower, more dangerous. “And I made that clear last time we spoke—you promised you'd handle it without her.”

Silence stretched. Just static and shallow breathing from the other end.

The voice returned, quieter now. “It was just this once. She won’t be part of anything going forward. I give you my word.”

I let out an exasperated sigh, my fingers pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Your word means nothing. She's not stupid, you know? She’ll want to figure out who you are and how you know her.”

I shifted in the seat, tension building in my chest. “What you’ve done… would keep her on edge. It’ll force her to live constantly looking over her shoulder.”

“And that’s exactly how she should live,” the voice countered. “She married you for revenge, Aziel. Do you really think she gets to walk through that fire without getting burned?”

The tone sharpened, colder now. “She’s playing a dangerous game. It’s only right that she stays on her toes—so nothing like this happens again.”

Before I could respond, a soft knock came at the car window.

I glanced up. My driver stood outside, waiting.

“I have to go,” I muttered into the phone, not waiting for a reply before ending the call and sliding the phone onto the seat beside me.

I lowered the window.

“Sir,” the driver said, leaning slightly toward the glass. “They’re ready for you.”

I gave a curt nod, my voice flat. “I’ll be there in a moment.”

He stepped back, leaving me alone again. I sank into the silence, trying to steady my heartbeat—which was racing far more than it should’ve been.

————

The room fell silent when I entered—not the respectful kind, but the awkward kind.

One of the male board members threw me a mocking glance before shifting his eyes to a female colleague.

He smirked. She gave a small, automatic nod, like they’d already exchanged their judgment of me before I even arrived.

The quiet hum of my wheelchair filled the room as I moved toward the long table.

I stopped at the open space left for me, letting my gaze pass over each face. Polished. Cold.

Straightening my back, I gave a single nod. “Good morning.”

A few muttered it back. Most stayed silent.

My mother sat at the head of the table, composed as ever. Her eyes met mine for a brief second before she turned to address the room.

“As you’re all aware, we’re here today to discuss the next Chief Executive Officer of Grant Holdings,” she began. “I’ve called this meeting to formally recommend my son as a candidate.”

Mr. Dalton, a senior board member—old money, old mind—leaned forward at once, clearly ready for a fight.

“With all due respect, Ms. Grant,” he said, his tone clipped, “Mr. Grant may have been the face of this company for the past seven years, but he hasn’t exactly been in the trenches with the rest of us…”

“...He knows nothing about the actual workings of this company. And just because he’s your son doesn’t mean he deserves to be a candidate—let alone the CEO.”

He turned his attention to me, not bothering to hide the skepticism in his voice. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you deserve the position.”

I met his gaze, my tone calm. “I know that. And I won’t insult your intelligence by pretending otherwise.”

That made him pause. He leaned back in his seat, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Like you said, for the past seven years, I’ve been the face of Grant Holdings—magazine covers, interviews, handshakes. I smiled, posed, and said the lines I was told to say. That was my role. Nothing more.”

No one argued. That was the truth—or at least, the truth they believed. The truth I had been living ever since Nathaniel’s coma five years ago.

“But I don’t intend to just be the face of this company forever,” I went on. “I have bigger aspirations. And I know that, like Mr. Dalton, some of you think I can’t handle it…”

“...That I’m not strong enough. Not experienced enough. That I haven’t earned this.”

“And truthfully, I know I haven’t done as much as you all have for this company. I haven’t sat in on your meetings. I haven’t written your reports…”

“...But I’ve observed this company—both from the outside and the inside. Not the polished public image. The real thing. I see where the cracks are. I know where the dead weight hides…”

“... And I know exactly where we’re bleeding money while pretending we’re growing.”

I paused, then continued, voice steady.

“I’m not here asking for this position because of the name I bear—or because I see it as some birthright, as a few of you might think…”

“...I’m here because I’ve finally realized I can make something better out of it. For this company. For all of us.”

A beat of silence followed before a woman with a sharp bob cut leaned forward.

“Mr. Grant,” she said carefully, tilting her head. “I understand what you’re saying, but I think I speak for everyone when I say… we need more reassurance…”

“... If you become CEO, you’ll be stepping into a role that demands full-time presence—constant travel, negotiations, physical appearances. Do you really think you can handle that… realistically?”

There it was.

The real question. The real concern. Wrapped in polite words.

I gave a small smile, briefly glancing down at the chair beneath me before lifting my eyes again.

“Let me save us the hassle. You want to know if I can lead this company from a wheelchair.”

Silence.

No one argued.

I gave a slow nod. “The truth is, I’ve made little to no progress in walking again. But I’m not planning to stay in this chair forever. I’m in active rehab. My condition isn’t permanent.”

Dalton frowned. “But it’s still your present reality.”

“Yes,” I said, steady and firm. “And in that reality—even if I never walk again—this company doesn’t need someone with legs to lead it. It needs vision. It needs guts. And it needs someone who actually gives a damn about where it’s headed.”

That made someone at the far end of the table shift in their seat, sitting up straighter.

Another voice followed. “Forgive me, Mr. Grant, if I sound too blunt, but… why now? Why didn’t you come forward for this position back when you could walk?”

I met his gaze without flinching.

I held his gaze. “Because back then, I didn’t care. I thought I only mattered as long as the cameras were flashing. But losing the ability to walk…” I drew in a breath. “...It reminded me that I could lose everything… and still choose to rebuild.”

My voice softened, but the conviction behind it didn’t waver.

“I may not look like the CEO you had in mind. But I can promise you this…there’s more fight in the man sitting in this chair than in half the people who’ve ever stood in this room.”

“... So if you’re willing to put aside what you expected… and give me the chance to lead this company to where it truly deserves to be—” I trailed off and turned to my mother, giving her a subtle nod.

She cleared her throat. “If no one has anything further to add then… shall we take a vote?”

No one spoke. The silence this time wasn’t the awkward kind I had walked into earlier.

And then, one by one, the hands began to rise.

When the final count was made, a sense of calm settled over me. I didn’t smile, I didn’t need to.

I met their eyes with quiet resolve and nodded. “Thank you for your trust. I won’t let you down.”

—————

The room emptied slowly. Handshakes. Murmurs. Sighs of relief or frustration—it was hard to tell.

One by one, the board members filed out, until it was just me and my mother left.

She stood, slipped into her coat with practiced ease, and crossed the room. Her heels clicked lightly against the polished floor.

“You surprised me,” she said, voice cool, face unreadable.

I raised an eyebrow, lips tightening. “Did I?”

A brief flicker of something—pride, maybe?—passed across her face before she masked it again. “You handled the board well. I wasn’t expecting you to speak up like that.”

I allowed a smile to spread across my lips. “Coming from you, that’s high praise.”

“Don’t let it get to your head. The title’s just a title. What you do with it… that’s what matters.”

I nodded slowly, my expression steady. “I’m aware.”

She adjusted her coat, her eyes still distant, her voice cold. “I look forward to seeing what kind of CEO you’ll be.”

Without another word, she turned toward the exit. But as she reached the door, she glanced over her shoulder, her gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than usual.

“I have some business to take care of. I’ll be back by the weekend. Use my absence wisely. Get closer to your wife. Our deal is still on, Aziel. Don’t forget that.”

I didn’t miss the cold edge in her voice, even though she tried to make it sound casual. “I haven’t forgotten,” I said, my tone low but firm.

As her footsteps faded down the hallway, I allowed a small smirk to curl at the corner of my lips.

Deal? She had no idea she had just opened the door to her empire to someone who was going to bring it down to its knees—and all she thought she had to worry about was me keeping my end of the bargain?

“Oh well,” I muttered, pressing the button on the armrest of my wheelchair to start moving toward the entrance.