HE IGNORED HIS PREGNANT WIFE’S DESPERATE CALLS WHILE DINING WITH HIS MISTRESS—UNAWARE SHE HAD JUST LOST THEIR BABY! BUT WHEN HE FINALLY CALLED BACK, A LAWYER ANSWERED… AND HIS WORLD CAME CRASHING DOWN!

At 8:45 AM, the glass-and-steel monolith of Sterling Holdings at 150 North Riverside was besieged.

Sebastian shoved his way through the revolving doors, his eyes wild, his tie askew. The lobby was swarming with tension. Security guards stood at high alert, and as Sebastian crossed the polished granite floor, whispered conversations died instantly. Employees turned their faces away, avoiding eye contact as if he carried a contagious plague.

"Good morning, Mr. Sterling," the head of building security said stiffly, intercepting him near the executive elevators.

"Step aside, Davis," Sebastian said, his voice ragged. "I have a board meeting in fifteen minutes."

"I’m under strict instructions to escort you directly to the Boardroom on the 34th floor, sir. You are not permitted to enter your private office."

"This is my building!" Sebastian hissed, but Davis merely gestured toward two off-duty police officers stationed near the turnstiles. Swallowing his pride, his teeth grinding until his jaw ached, Sebastian stepped into the elevator.

When the doors opened on the 34th floor, the silence was absolute.

Sebastian pushed open the heavy mahogany doors of the primary boardroom. The massive rectangular table, carved from solid walnut, was fully occupied. Every single member of the board of directors was seated: venture capitalists, institutional partners, and senior executives.

At the head of the table, sitting in the high-backed leather chair that Sebastian had claimed for the past four years, sat Julian Cross.

The veteran attorney was seventy years old, impeccably groomed in a bespoke three-piece Savile Row suit, his silver hair neatly combed. Beside him sat Nora.

Elena was absent.

"Take a seat, Sebastian," Julian Cross said smoothly, gesturing toward an empty chair at the far, opposite end of the long table—the seat traditionally reserved for junior associates receiving reprimands.

"This is an illegal gathering," Sebastian declared, remaining standing, desperate to project authority. "I am the Chairman of the Board and the Chief Executive Officer. A board meeting cannot be convened without my written notice!"

"Under Section 8 of the Sterling Holdings Corporate Charter," Nora spoke up, her voice slicing through the room like a scalpel, "the Chairman may be summarily suspended by a supermajority vote of Class-A voting shares in the event of gross moral turpitude, financial malfeasance, or breach of fiduciary duty."

"Class-A shares?" Sebastian laughed nervously, looking around the table at the stone-faced board members. "Elena and I hold the Class-A shares jointly! You can't cast that vote without my signature!"

Julian Cross slowly slid a thick document across the walnut table.

"Your joint ownership was predicated on the marital continuity clause established in the 2019 Vance Trust Agreement," Cross said, his voice calm, steady, and utterly lethal. "Under the terms your wife signed, if you engaged in documented acts of infidelity, reckless endangerment, or willful neglect leading to the catastrophic dissolution of the family unit, full voting proxy automatically reverts solely to the Trustee. Which, as of 6:00 AM, is Mrs. Elena Vance."

Cross looked up, his steel-gray eyes locking onto Sebastian.

"Elena has exercised her proxy. Along with the institutional investors whom you defrauded regarding the offshore capital expenditures, we represent eighty-two percent of the voting power in this room."

Sebastian turned to Thomas Wright, his oldest board member and a man he considered a personal mentor. "Thomas... you can't let them do this. We built this firm together. The IPO is three weeks away! If you oust me, Wall Street will panic! The valuation will plummet!"

Thomas looked down at his leather portfolio, refusing to meet Sebastian’s frantic gaze. "The valuation is already dead, Sebastian. Julian presented us with the forensic audit an hour ago. You used corporate credit lines to fund your mistress’s lifestyle. You falsified vendor invoices to hide wire transfers to shell entities. The SEC has already been notified. If we don't sever you from this company this morning, we are all liable for criminal conspiracy."

"No... no, Thomas, please—"

"All in favor of the immediate termination of Sebastian Sterling as CEO and Chairman, with cause?" Julian Cross announced.

Around the table, one by one, every single hand rose.

Men Sebastian had played golf with. Partners he had toasted with champagne. Friends who had attended his lavish wedding. Not a single person hesitated.

"The motion carries unanimously," Cross said, shutting his leather folder with a soft, final thud. "You will surrender your company phone, your building keycards, and your executive credentials to building security immediately. You have until 5:00 PM to submit a list of personal items from your office, which will be packed and delivered to your temporary address under supervision."

Sebastian felt his knees buckle. The room seemed to recede into a dark tunnel. His company. His billions. His power. It had vanished in less than thirty seconds.

"Where is she?" Sebastian choked out, tears of humiliation and rage spilling down his cheeks. "Where is Elena?! Tell her to face me! She’s hiding behind her family like a coward! Tell her to look me in the eye!"

Nora stood up. She walked down the length of the table until she was inches from him.

"Elena isn't hiding, Sebastian," Nora whispered, her voice dripping with venom. "She’s at the funeral home. Picking out a casket for your son. A casket that you don't even have the right to visit."