Chapter Twenty-Five: The Vote

Ethan's POV

The atmosphere inside the boardroom shifted the moment Penelope stood.

She didn't ask for permission. She never did.

With effortless confidence, she buttoned her navy blazer and smiled at everyone seated around the long mahogany table. The morning sunlight streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows cast sharp shadows across the room, highlighting the tension that had been building for months.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she began smoothly, "Blackwell Corporation is entering a new era."

Silence answered her.

Every director watched carefully. Some supported her. Some supported me. The rest were simply waiting to see who would win. The air felt thick with anticipation, the kind that preceded major corporate battles.

Penelope gestured toward the man seated three chairs away from her. "I would like to nominate Richard Hayes for the position of Executive Chairman."

Richard rose immediately, offering the room a practiced smile. He looked respectable. Experienced. Safe. Exactly the type of executive shareholders liked. Exactly the type of man Penelope could control.

Several board members nodded. One even started clapping softly. I remained seated, fingers steepled, observing every reaction. Dante glanced at me from across the table. He already knew I wasn't about to let this happen without a fight.

Penelope continued, her voice carrying that polished confidence she had perfected over years. "Mr. Hayes has over thirty years of executive leadership experience. He believes in stability, transparency, and protecting shareholder interests."

*Protecting yours,* I thought. *Not theirs.*

My father folded his hands calmly on the table. "I believe Richard is the right man for this responsibility."

A few more directors murmured in agreement. The momentum was shifting. I could feel it — the subtle realignment of loyalties that had been quietly cultivated in private meetings and whispered phone calls.

I slowly stood.

The room became quiet again.

"I disagree."

Every eye turned toward me. Penelope smiled politely, though her eyes remained cold. "Of course you do."

I walked toward the head of the table, my steps measured. The room grew still. "The Executive Chairman should be someone who understands where this company is going."

Richard adjusted his tie, a small smile playing on his lips. "And you believe that's you?"

"I don't believe it." I looked directly at him. "I know it."

The room grew even quieter. Richard laughed softly. "Confidence is admirable."

"It isn't confidence," I replied. "It's the results."

Penelope crossed her arms. "Results?"

"Blackwell Corporation has tripled its international market value since I became CEO." I looked around the room, meeting each director's eyes. "Our technology division expanded into fourteen new countries. Our profits increased. Our investors doubled. Our employee retention reached its highest level in company history. I didn't inherit those achievements. I built them."

Nobody interrupted. Even those who disliked me couldn't deny the numbers. The evidence was irrefutable. Penelope leaned forward, still smiling. "Words are impressive, Ethan." She gestured toward the empty space in front of me. "But shareholders prefer action."

Several directors nodded. My father spoke next, his voice measured. "If you're asking us to reject Richard Hayes, then show us why."

Another director adjusted his glasses. "We've heard your confidence." He folded his hands. "Now we'd like to see your evidence."

Another voice joined. "Financial projections."

"Growth reports."

"International contracts."

"Show us."

The room suddenly filled with agreement. "Yes." "Let's see the numbers." "Evidence matters."

I smiled. Exactly what I had prepared for. Everything I needed was inside my presentation — the acquisition strategy, projected expansion, investor commitments, revenue forecasts. I turned toward my chair to retrieve my laptop.

Then… I stopped. My briefcase. Empty. For the first time that morning, my heartbeat stumbled.

*No.*

I remembered placing my laptop on the kitchen island while drinking coffee before leaving the penthouse. I had answered Dante's urgent call about Penelope's early maneuvering. Rushed downstairs. Grabbed my briefcase in haste. And left without it.

A cold silence settled inside me. Dante noticed immediately. His expression changed. "Ethan..."

Penelope watched me carefully. The smallest smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. She knew. She knew something was wrong.

My father looked at me. "Your presentation?"

I didn't answer. Every second felt longer than the last. One of the board members checked his watch impatiently. "If Mr. Blackwell has nothing further to present..."

He looked toward Penelope. "I see no reason to delay."

Another director nodded. "I agree."

A third spoke. "What exactly are we waiting for?"

He looked around the room before saying the words I had hoped not to hear. "Proceed with the vote."

The room erupted into murmurs. Penelope's smile widened slightly as she leaned back in her chair. I stood there, the weight of my mistake settling heavily on my shoulders. The presentation I had spent weeks perfecting was sitting on my kitchen island, useless.

Dante's eyes met mine across the table. He knew how much was riding on this vote. If Richard Hayes became Executive Chairman, Penelope would gain the influence she needed to slowly erode my control. The company my family had built would become a battlefield, and I would be fighting from a weakened position.

I kept my expression calm, refusing to show weakness. But inside, frustration burned. I had been distracted — by Dante's messages, by the rushed drive, by thoughts I shouldn't have allowed to intrude. A single oversight, and now the board was moving forward without the evidence I needed to shut this down.

Penelope rose gracefully. "Shall we proceed?"

The directors began discussing the motion. My father watched me carefully, his expression unreadable. I met his gaze, refusing to look away. This wasn't over. Not yet.

But as the vote was called, I realized the cost of my mistake might be higher than I had anticipated. The boardroom, once my domain, now felt like enemy territory.

And the battle for Blackwell Corporation had just begun in earnest.