Chapter 6
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As the meeting began, Amy's aunt launched the first offensive, attempting to frame everything as emotional drama stemming from Amy's distress over her grandfather's illness.
"Amy, dear, I know you've been under tremendous stress lately," she said with manufactured sympathy, "but you can't make these wild accusations against family members who have always looked out for you."
Amy didn't argue. She simply rose calmly and walked to the head of the table—her grandfather's position. Standing tall, her gaze swept the room before settling on her aunt's perfectly maintained face.
"Looked out for me?" Amy's voice wasn't loud but carried to every ear. "Is that what you call transferring over three million in company assets to shell companies you personally control?"
She clicked the remote, and the massive screen behind her filled with document after document of damning financial evidence that Shane's team had compiled. Every transfer record, every forged signature stood like an accusation aimed directly at the elders.
"Or perhaps it's like this," Amy continued, switching to the next piece of evidence—a crystal-clear audio recording, professionally enhanced to eliminate background noise, that now filled the conference room.
It was her aunt's voice, smugly instructing Cindy how to "accidentally" sabotage files and blame Amy, and how to manipulate Charles with tears. Cindy's sickeningly sweet voice responded: "Don't worry, Mom. I'm your real daughter after all, and Charles believes everything I say."
"Real daughter?!"
The neutral directors gasped in shock. All eyes locked onto the aunt and Cindy, whose faces drained of color.
Amy's lips curved in a cold, almost cruel smile.
"I'm sure everyone's wondering," she continued, her unhurried voice landing like precise hammer blows, "why my aunt would go to such lengths for a supposedly 'distant orphaned relative,' even misappropriating company resources to fast-track her career."
She clicked the remote again. The screen now displayed not financial data but an irrefutable DNA test from a prestigious medical institution.
The results showed a 99.99% mother-daughter relationship between Cindy and Amy's aunt.
"This was never about adoption or compassion," Amy's voice fell like a judge's gavel. "This was a carefully orchestrated conspiracy to replace the Grant family's legitimate heir with your biological daughter. And Charles is nothing but a pitiful pawn you bribed to achieve your ends."
Cindy's mind shattered like glass. Her deepest secret—her true identity—lay exposed before everyone. Her angelic face contorted in rage as all color drained from it. She leapt to her feet, screaming hysterically: "It's not true! This is fake! You're framing me!"
Her mother—Amy's aunt—moved past shock to display a desperate, venomous fury.
Charles instinctively jumped up to defend Cindy: "She doesn't know anything about this! You can't treat her this way!"
"I'm not attacking her background, Charles," Amy cut in coldly. "I'm condemning her actions. And your contemptible willingness to sell out your integrity for a deputy director position!"
Just as chaos erupted, the heavy double doors of the conference room slowly opened.
Grandfather entered in a wheelchair, pushed by his personal doctor and escorted by Daniel. Though frail, his cloudy eyes flashed with long-absent, undeniable authority.
His appearance silenced the room instantly, like a hammer striking a gong.
He ignored his siblings, instead sweeping a deeply disappointed gaze over the ashen-faced Charles and his youngest son, who had completely crumbled.
The board members, reading the old chairman's expression, immediately understood where power now lay. A vote was conducted swiftly and decisively.
The result was overwhelming. Amy's uncles and aunts were immediately dismissed from all positions on charges of embezzlement and severe damage to company interests, then handed over to authorities by the legal team.
And Cindy, the exposed fraud, was publicly and permanently expelled from the Grant family.
As security came forward to "escort" these newly powerless individuals from the building, Charles finally snapped out of his daze.
He shook off the guards and, in the hallway, blocked Amy's path one final time.
His face streaked with tears, he pleaded hoarsely: "Amy... I'm sorry. I know I was wrong—I was a complete jerk. Please forgive me. Can we start over? Please..."
Amy studied him quietly—the face that had once made her heart flutter, then shatter. Her heart now remained undisturbed, calm as an autumn lake.
"I forgive you, Charles," she said softly.
A faint gleam of hope flashed in his eyes.
"...I forgive you not for your sake, but for mine," her voice was gentle yet devastating. "Because you're no longer important enough for me to waste energy hating."
The hope in his eyes died instantly. He finally understood that the greatest punishment wasn't hatred but complete, genuine indifference.
Amy walked past him without a backward glance. Her father and Shane waited for her at the hallway's end, where light streamed in.
Charles stood frozen, watching her straight back disappear into the light. He knew he'd lost her forever. Endless regret washed over him like cold seawater. With hunched shoulders, like a forgotten ghost, he shuffled alone from the skyscraper that once embodied all his ambitions.
In the conference room, Grandfather held Amy's hand before all the directors. Summoning his remaining strength, he lifted his head and announced in a voice that carried to every corner:
"From today forward, Amelia Grant's decisions are my decisions."
This declaration was the final royal decree—the formal transfer of power.
The vote determining the Grant family's future held no suspense.
Amy Grant was unanimously approved as the new Chief Executive Officer of Grant Group.
When she exited the Grant Building with her father and Shane, media reporters already swarmed the entrance. Camera flashes exploded like lightning, microphones thrust toward her from every direction.
"Miss Grant, your thoughts on today's board meeting outcome?"
"How will you lead Grant Group through this trust crisis?"
Amy paused, calmly facing the cameras and scrutiny. Her face showed no wild triumph—only a strength beyond her years, serene and resolute.
She knew the revenge war had ended. But the kingdom that was rightfully hers—the one she needed to conquer—had just opened its gates.
That evening after the fate-deciding board meeting, light still burned in the CEO's office. Through massive windows, the brilliant cityscape resembled a flowing river of diamonds.
Amy stood by the window, adrenaline still warming her veins. She had won. Those who had once trampled her were now defeated enemies in full retreat. Yet she knew reclaiming lost territory was merely the first step—rebuilding an empire would be a longer, harder battle.
"Shane," she turned, ready to discuss future plans as equal partners, "thank you. As allies, our next step is—"
"The alliance is over, Amy."
Shane cut her off. He rose from the sofa and approached deliberately. His tall figure, backlit by city lights, loomed like an impenetrable wall. His deep eyes burned in the dim light, determined and unyielding.
"The moment the board vote ended," he stopped before her, "our business contract was fulfilled."
Amy's heart sank. A strange panic gripped her as she stared at him in confusion: "What do you mean?"
"I mean our official business is concluded." He stepped closer until they could feel each other's breath. His masculine scent, with hints of gunpowder, surrounded her completely. "Now, let's discuss personal matters."
"Our marriage has begun."
