Chapter 18

The top‑floor boardroom hummed with quiet, heavy tension as we stepped inside. Long polished oak tables stretched across the wide space; every seat held a senior board member, their faces serious, folders laid out before them. Security officers stood discreetly near the exits, while Ms. Hale, Diana and Rowan took observation seats along the back wall. We carried our locked evidence briefcase between us, every nerve strung tight knowing Mara’s forged audio and unknown backup threat loomed somewhere close.

Near the side‑entrance, a sharp‑featured woman in a neutral grey blazer sat quietly at a guest table — Mara Kael. She lifted her gaze as we walked past, giving only a faint, unreadable nod, no sign of panic that her half‑brother Gideon sat behind bars.

The board chair called the hearing to order. “Today we review the validity of Caelum Vance’s succession claim, tied to the terms of his grandfather’s will — and the legitimacy of his marriage to Zara Voss‑Vance.”

For the first twenty minutes, we laid out our genuine evidence: dash‑cam footage from the highway crash, Elias’s preliminary hospital statement, my mother’s sworn recorded account of what she’d seen that rainy night, and the files retrieved from safety‑deposit box 417. Several board members leaned forward, visibly moved; others remained guarded, remembering the old rumours Gideon had seeded years earlier.

Then Mara stood. “With the board’s permission, I have supplementary materials to present — newly recovered audio recordings that cast severe doubt on these claims.”

A hush fell across the room. She plugged a portable speaker into the central system. Voices began playing — edited, manipulated clips that sounded like Caelum discussing bribing inspectors, and a doctored segment where my voice appeared to admit I’d agreed to marry him purely as part of a pre‑planned corporate scheme. Shock rippled through the board; some members frowned, shifting back in their chairs.

“These prove the marriage and so‑called ‘new evidence’ are a calculated power‑grab,” Mara said firmly. “I move for an immediate vote to disqualify Caelum Vance and appoint the alternate candidate — Julian Reeve — as interim‑CEO.”

My heart raced. Caelum gripped my hand beneath the table, warm and steady; his eyes flicked briefly to my lips, a quiet pull there before he pulled back, holding fast to our promise to build closeness slowly instead of rushing into a moment we weren’t yet ready for.

Ms. Hale stood from the rear row. “Before any vote proceeds, we have an encrypted USB drive — recovered from Elias’s hospital cast — containing proof the audio files were digitally altered. We also have hospital‑security footage showing Mara visiting Elias to plant that very drive, alongside her written Lira‑fund payment records.”

Mara’s composure wavered for the first time — but she did not surrender. “Even if the audio is fake,” she said sharply, “many of you on this board chose to stay silent ten years ago when warning signs emerged about the late CEO’s safety. If you rule against me now, I will leak every old internal email showing your collective silence to every major news outlet.”

Panic flickered across several board‑members’ faces; a low murmur broke out. That was the blackmail Elias had warned us about.

Just as the debate threatened to spiral out of control, the main board‑room doors swung open. A uniformed police investigator stepped in — accompanied by Elias, moving slowly on crutches, his leg still in its heavy cast. Every head turned toward him.

“I asked to be brought here to testify in person,” Elias said, his voice clear despite fatigue. “Mara’s threat relies on making you fear old secrets — but I have complete records of every communication between Gideon, Mara and me. Those include proof Mara has a separate backup plan she hasn’t yet revealed.”

Mara’s face went pale. “You were supposed to stay confined to your hospital bed.”

“Enough people have been used as pawns,” Elias replied. “The backup you prepared isn’t more recordings. You arranged to remotely trigger an erasure‑virus deep inside Vance‑Industries’ core server farm — set to wipe every financial and historical company record in ninety seconds if you send one final phone signal.”

Chaos erupted. Board‑members grabbed their phones; Ms. Hale sprinted toward the room’s secure communications terminal to alert the IT security team. Mara’s hand moved toward her own pocket — but two plain‑clothed officers, alerted beforehand by Hale’s team, stepped forward and gently restrained her before she could reach her device.

Yet even as they led her toward the exit, she threw one last sharp glance our way. “You’ve stopped the virus today… but there is one remaining name from that old conspiracy you still haven’t uncovered.”

The hearing paused while IT specialists confirmed the hidden virus had been located and safely neutralised. We stood side‑by‑side near the large window, watching officers escort Mara away, wondering what final name she had meant. Caelum’s fingers curled around mine, lingering longer than before; this time there was no near‑kiss, only quiet, shared relief mixed with new, unresolved unease.

We had blocked the forged evidence and the digital sabotage. But Mara’s parting warning hung heavy in the air: someone else connected to the original plot remained free, still hidden, waiting.