All Chapters of My Husband Chose His Ex When I Was pregnant: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Elena’s POVThe air inside the thirty-fifth-floor executive conference room of Vance Global was heavy with a cold, simmering hostility. Outside the panoramic glass windows, a light afternoon rain glazed over the city skyline, but inside, every eye around the polished granite table was fixed directly on me."The acquisition of Cole Enterprises' remaining European assets was supposed to stabilize our foreign portfolio, Miss Vance," Julian Vance—Alistair’s thirty-four-year-old nephew—announced, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the granite surface. "Instead, your aggressive, emotional tactics have drawn unprecedented scrutiny from regulatory agencies in Zurich and London."I sat at the head of the secondary table, wearing an immaculate white silk blouse and a sharp black tailored blazer. My hands rested loosely over a thick leather binder. I didn't interrupt him. I didn't fidget. I simply watched Julian's face with a quiet, unyielding calm."Let us be honest with one another," Ju

Elena’s POVMidnight had long passed over the coastal estate, but sleep was an impossible luxury.The rain outside had evolved into a steady, torrential downpour, beating relentless rhythms against the floor-to-ceiling glass walls of Alistair Vance’s private archival study. I sat behind the massive mahogany desk, illuminated only by the warm glow of a single brass banker's lamp.Spread out across the polished wood were three decades of encrypted financial ledgers, international wire receipts, and microfilmed banking records from Zurich, London, and the Cayman Islands.Damien’s terrified warnings from the federal detention center echoed in my mind with every turn of a page: “They are an ancient, shadow syndicate that controls central private banks, defense contracts, and shipping corridors... leave the old Cole ledgers alone.”I reached for an archived financial report dated October 14, 1998—the exact month Arthur Cole’s silent partner in The Aegis Group had mysteriously drowned in the

Elena’s POVThe smooth, muted roar of the Gulfstream’s twin engines softened as the aircraft descended through a dense blanket of grey winter clouds, breaking into the crisp, sunlit expanse above Zurich. Far below, snow-dusted Swiss chalets and jagged Alpine peaks glittered like sharp glass under the cold morning sun.Sitting across from me in the quiet cabin, Alistair Vance lowered his crystal glass of mineral water and looked out the oval window."Zurich," Alistair murmured, his voice laced with a subtle, dark nostalgia. "The vault of the old world. Where kings come to borrow money and empires are bought and sold over afternoon tea.""And where Baron Henrik von Strauss expects us to kneel," I added smoothly, closing my leather briefing binder."Henrik does not expect kneeling, Elena," Alistair corrected, turning his sharp grey eyes toward me. "He expects obedience. To Henrik, the Cole family, the Vance family, and the international shipping lines are merely rows on a private ledger

Elena’s POVThe grand ballroom on the top floor of the Hotel Les Trois Rois overlooked the dark, churning waters of the Rhine River. Beyond the high arched windows, a relentless winter sleet rattled against the glass, but inside, the air was warm, quiet, and thick with the subtle, suffocating weight of ancient wealth.This was the private chamber of the Aegis Council.No press were permitted within five miles of the hotel. No phones, digital tablets, or recording devices were allowed past the heavy iron-reinforced doors. Armed private security detail clad in unbranded charcoal suits stood at ten-foot intervals along the mahogany-paneled walls, their handguns hidden beneath tailored coats.In the center of the vast room sat an enormous, circular table carved from a single piece of dark Italian marble. Five men sat around its perimeter, each representing centuries of buried banking dynasties, private defense conglomerates, and sovereign credit lines across Europe.Alistair Vance sat to

Elena’s POVThe air on the rooftop helipad of Hotel Les Trois Rois was biting cold, whipped into a sharp, howling fury by the twin rotors of the Vance Global Sikorsky S-76. Down below, the dark, icy ribbon of the Rhine River glided quietly through the ancient heart of Zurich, but my eyes remained fixed straight ahead as the ground crew signaled for us to board.Alistair climbed into the plush leather cabin first, using his silver-topped cane for balance against the mountain wind, followed by Julian carrying the primary legal archives. I stepped up into the warm, pressurized interior last, my dark cashmere coat draped smartly over my shoulders, holding my custom leather briefcase securely against my side.As the heavy sliding door sealed shut with a soft pneumatic thud, cutting off the deafening roar of the spinning blades, the helicopter lifted smoothly into the grey Swiss sky, banking West toward the private international airfield."The Wall Street Journal and Financial Times have ju