Chapter Eighteen: The ShareHolder Meeting

The boardroom still looked exactly as I remembered. Still sleek. Still cold. Still carved from marble and old money. The walls were lined with ancestral portraits of men who’d ruined kingdoms and called it legacy. The long mahogany table gleamed under chandelier light, flanked by leather chairs so polished they looked untouched.

And yet, somehow, the air still smelled like blood.

The table was nearly full—Blake’s father at the head, flanked by his wife, Blake’s older sister Vanessa, a few crusty board members in bespoke suits. Blake himself sat off to the side, legs spread, a cruel smile already on his lips.

And then—

“Miss Reynolds,” his father drawled, voice coated with sugar-soaked venom.

I didn’t blink. “It’s Blackwood.”

“Is it?” He asked, as if I’d said something cute. “Hard to tell. We haven’t seen your husband.”

“Dominic sends his regards.”

“I’m sure he does,” He said, sipping champagne like it was laced with mockery. “Though it’s strange he’s not here. I’d assumed husbands attended meetings that affected their wives’ financial futures.”

Vanessa snorted softly beside him. One of the older men leaned in to whisper something, and they all laughed.

No one offered me a chair.

Not even a glance toward the empty seats around the perimeter.

I stayed standing.

They wanted to unnerve me?

Let them try.

Blake’s younger brother, Caleb, approached quietly. Kind eyes, nervous hands. “You can sit here, if you’d like,” he offered, pointing toward the back of the room.

I smiled softly. “Thank you.”

Before I could move, Vanessa’s voice rang out. “That seat’s reserved for actual shareholders, Caleb.”

He flushed and stepped back.

My jaw tightened. I didn’t move.

No chair. No water. No folder. No nameplate.

I was a ghost in a room I used to belong to.

Blake leaned back in his seat, arms crossed behind his head. “Did you get lost on your way to a bridal brunch, Scarlett?”

I didn’t respond.

“You’re glowing,” he continued. “Not in a good way. More like a ‘stress and abandonment’ kind of glow.”

I stared straight ahead.

“Has Dominic already tired of you?” Vanessa added. “It’s been what—one week?”

Blake’s mother leaned in, eyes narrowed with fake pity. “Sweetheart, would you like a condolence card?”

My brow lifted slightly.

She continued. “It must be difficult, mourning a pregnancy and a marriage at the same time.”

My breath hitched, but I didn’t flinch.

I refused to give her the satisfaction.

The board began flipping through their documents as if I didn’t exist. No introductions. No eye contact. Just page turning and smug smiles.

The CEO cleared his throat. “Before we begin official motions, let’s address the… irregular shareholding matter.”

Oh, so that’s what I am now. An irregularity.

He turned to the room. “As you know, Miss Reynolds—”

“Blackwood,” I corrected again.

He ignored me. “—was granted ten percent marital shares upon her union with Blake Reynolds. However, given the dissolution of that union and recent… personal instability, a motion has been raised to dissolve said shares and return them to the family estate.”

My heart slammed in my chest.

Blake’s mother smiled at me.

Vanessa sipped her drink.

And then, from the corner, someone stood.

Blake.

He buttoned his jacket slowly, like a man preparing to deliver a eulogy he’d rehearsed all morning.

“I voted for the motion,” he said casually. “Not because I hate you, Scarlett. But because you’re no longer one of us. You never really were actually, you were just a hungry poor girl we pitied because your father was pathetic enough to beg us for a way out of his poverty.”

I stared at him. “You tried to kill me.”

He shrugged. “That’s a matter of interpretation. If you ask me, I’d say we were just trying to tell you nicely to get out of our lives since you’re just a barren whore.”

There were chuckles around the table.

I smiled. “Well, good thing no one asked you, right?”

His face turned red and he looked about to combust. “You filthy bitch, how dare you—”

“Blake, not now. Remember we do not play with outsiders.” His father cut in and reluctantly, Blake sat down.

I threw a sweet smile at him and his eyes promised death.

His father turned to me. “And you, Scarlett, one would think with the few years you spent with us,earning how to act with class, one would think you would have at least some manners in settings like these instead of coming to cause a nuisance.”

Jules took a step forward. “First of all, it’s Mrs Blackwood to you. Second, what did you just say? You and your family have been causing a fucking nuisance all morning and you have the guts to accuse Mrs Blackwood of that?

I could feel the camera lenses on me. One of the press reps behind the glass wall was already scribbling notes. Probably describing my outfit. My silence. My shame.

“This isn’t personal,” Blake’s father added. “It’s business. Surely even you understand that.”

“No one wants to see you destroyed,” Vanessa said with a sweet smile. “We just want to protect the company from further embarrassment.”

“And let’s be honest,” Blake’s mother added, “you were always a little... fragile.”

I stared at the folder in front of the chairman. It had my name on it. Just one swift vote and they’d erase me like I never mattered.

I was seconds from snapping.

But I didn’t.

Because that’s when I felt it.

A shift in the room.

The temperature dropped.

The lights somehow dimmed—at least it felt like they did.

And then—

The doors opened.

And in he walked.

Dominic Blackwood.

Black suit. Black shirt. No tie. Cufflinks like razors. Confidence radiating from every controlled step.

The room went dead silent.

Even the air held its breath.

He didn’t smile. He didn’t blink.

He just walked in like he owned every inch of marble his shoes touched—and maybe he did.

He stopped at my side.

Turned to me with a smile that would freeze the Atlantic Ocean, took my hands and kissed my forehead. “Hi baby.”

I smiled outside but my insides were screaming what???? And blushing hard.

As if he knows how his little introduction has unnerved me, he grins.

When he turns back, the smile is gone and only the predator remains.

He just placed a thick envelope on the table in front of the board chair and said, in a voice that could freeze oceans—

“Let’s begin.”