Chapter Nineteen: The Devil’s Wife Speaks

Silence.

That was the first thing Dominic brought into the room.

A chilling, bone-deep silence that made every arrogant smile flicker. No one spoke as he moved to my side, calm as ever, dressed like war and wealth had a baby and named it Blackwood.

He set the envelope on the table with surgical precision.

Then stepped back.

The doors hadn’t even finished closing behind him when Blake’s father shot up from his seat.

“This is outrageous!” he barked. “You don’t belong here, Blackwood. This meeting is private. For Reynolds board members and legal counsel only.”

Vanessa added, “You’re a direct competitor. You showing up is illegal interference. You should be escorted out immediately.”

“Security!” Blake’s mother snapped, slamming her palm on the table like she was still the queen of something.

Dominic just smiled.

Not kindly.

Not cruelly.

Just enough to let them know they were already too late.

“I may be your rival,” he said smoothly, adjusting the cuff of his black sleeve, “but I’m also Scarlett’s husband. And since you were all so concerned with her not having a man by her side when her financial future was being discussed…”

He let the pause linger. Let it slice through the room.

“I thought it only appropriate to show up.”

Silence followed.

It was suffocating.

A few board members shifted uncomfortably. Someone behind the glass coughed. Even the receptionist watching from the hall paled.

Dominic smiled again, sharp this time.

“Don’t worry,” he added. “I won’t be doing the talking.”

“Mrs. Wang,” he said simply.

And just like that, she stepped forward.

Tall. Regal. Wrapped in charcoal grey silk and red-bottom heels. A storm in human form with cheekbones that could slit a throat and a voice smoother than poison.

“I represent Scarlett Blackwood,” she said, unbothered, as if she were announcing the weather.

The Reynolds board stared at her blankly.

She continued, “What you’re attempting today violates clause 9-A of the supplemental marital asset trust—filed and notarized prior to the dissolution of Mrs. Blackwood’s former marriage. According to that clause, any hostile sale or attempt to dissolve her ten percent share activates an exclusive purchase right.”

She placed a second folder on the table.

“And as of this morning,” she added with a smile, “Mrs. Blackwood has exercised that right. She has purchased an additional fifteen percent stake—personally funded through her holdings under Blackwood Securities.”

The room went still.

Comically still.

Blake’s father scoffed. “That clause was voided years ago.”

Mrs. Wang didn’t flinch. “It was buried. Not voided. And I do hope your legal team has an appetite for litigation. Ours certainly does.”

Blake laughed. Loud and disbelieving. “That’s absurd. She’s bluffing.”

“Actually,” Mrs. Wang said, turning with perfect timing, “we’ve already submitted the updated shareholder record to the press. I believe they’re printing it… now.”

Everyone turned to the glass walls.

Outside, the press team’s phones lit up.

Every. Single. One.

The PR director’s mouth dropped open. “She owns twenty-five percent.”

“No,” Vanessa said, pushing to her feet. “No, this is fake. This is a lie.”

Mrs. Wang raised a brow. “Would you like me to read the bank transfer confirmation aloud?”

“Impossible,” Blake muttered, pacing now. “You don’t have the funds. You don’t have the power. You don’t—”

“She does,” Dominic said finally, voice quiet but lethal.

Everyone turned.

His hand hovered over my lower back—just enough to say, She is mine. Just enough to say, Move, and you’ll bleed.

“She’s not your wife anymore,” Dominic said, voice soft as silk. “But she owns your company now.”

The entire boardroom reeled.

Blake’s father went red.

His mother’s mouth opened—then closed.

Vanessa sat back down so fast her chair squeaked.

And me?

I stepped forward.

My heels tapped across the marble like punctuation.

I didn’t raise my voice.

I didn’t need to.

“Do you remember the last time I was here?” I asked, voice calm. “I do. I sat at that end of the table. No seat, no nameplate. Just a napkin and pity.”

No one spoke.

“But today,” I continued, “I’m not here to beg. I’m here to remind you of who I am.”

I turned my eyes toward Blake.

“You left me bleeding at the bottom of your stairs and told the press I jumped for attention.”

I turned to his mother.

“You told them I faked a pregnancy. You sold stories. You sold me.”

To Vanessa.

“You told every investor I was mentally unfit to be a wife—let alone a shareholder.”

I turned to them all.

“You tried to erase me.”

The silence that followed was sharp enough to bleed.

“But I survived. And now,” I said, lifting my chin, “I own more of this company than any of you.”

Blake let out a short laugh, bitter and loud.

“Please. You expect us to believe you’re really pregnant? After trying for so many years and failing? You’re grasping, Scarlett. You’ve always been desperate for attention.”

His mother leaned in, voice razor-sharp. “You faked the pregnancy and tried to kill yourself before. What’s stopping you from doing it again?”

More chuckles. More disbelief.

Vanessa crossed her arms, smug. “You’ll say anything to stay relevant.”

I didn’t flinch.

Instead, I reached into the side of my handbag and retrieved a folded document — clean, crisp, deadly.

I walked forward and placed it gently on the table.

The Reynolds crest stamped in gold on the corner.

A pregnancy test result.

Doctor’s note.

Signed. Verified. Unshakeable.

Positive.

The laughter died.

Blake’s smirk faltered.

His mother’s mouth pressed into a thin, colorless line.

Even the board chair leaned forward to read the header twice.

Silence fell — thick and electric.

But it didn’t last.

“Fine,” Blake snapped, voice tighter now. “Let’s say you are pregnant. That still doesn’t mean anything. If the baby isn’t mine, then the child’s irrelevant. The clause was based on Reynolds blood. And you’re married to someone else now.”

He looked toward the board.

“She’s not entitled to anything.”

Vanessa nodded. “The clause was clear. No Reynold child, no shares. And the ten percent you bought won’t mean a thing if we can dissolve your influence before the birth.”

I didn’t speak.

I didn’t have to.

Mrs. Wang stepped forward, calm and elegant.

“That is true,” she said with a poised smile, “it is also true that she is pregnant right now and all we have to do is patiently wait for when we can get a paternity test done.”

She placed a second folder on the table.

“And that stipulation once we’re sure the child is Blake’s?” she continued, voice like silk over a blade. “Five hundred million dollars immediately deposited into her account. And twenty percent additional shares—should the child be carried to term and registered.”

Gasps rippled across the room.

Blake’s mother looked like she’d been struck.

Blake was pale.

Vanessa opened her mouth—then shut it, stunned.

Mrs. Wang’s smile didn’t waver.

“With Scarlett’s current ownership,” she added smoothly, “you’ll be seeing a majority shift the moment that child enters the world. And if the clause is honored?”

She tilted her head.

“She won’t just own more than any of you. She’ll own everything.”

“You bitch,” Vanessa snapped. “You scheming little—”

“I’d be careful what you say,” I said coolly. “Every word you speak is being recorded by the press outside.”

The board shifted nervously.

“We can still challenge it,” Blake’s father growled.

“Please do,” Mrs. Wang said, smiling. “I could use a new summer home after the countersuit.”

Then Blake stood, wild-eyed now. Desperate.

“This isn’t over, Scarlett.”

I smiled.

“No. It’s just beginning.”

His voice dropped, thick with something ugly. “We’ll ruin you.”

I tilted my head.

“You already tried.”

And then, the final blow.

I turned and walked to the door.

Dominic opened it for me.

Jules was waiting in the hall, arms crossed, grinning like Christmas had come early.

As I walked past the boardroom, every press camera turned.

Flashes burst.

The door shut behind me.

And for the first time since I married into the Reynolds family—

They were the ones left scrambling.

And I was the one they couldn’t touch.