Chapter 3 - Everett Whitmore Takes Control
Everett Whitmore leaned his weight slightly onto his polished silver cane, his gaze cutting like broken glass.
“Every contract bearing the Whitmore name holds absolute legal and financial finality, Callum,” my grandfather stated coldly.
The three hundred guests seated around the ballroom held their collective breath, terrified to make a sound.
Margaret Ashford stood up from her chair, her face flushed with a mixture of absolute fury and sudden panic.
“This is an outrage! You ambushed us with a rigged family document at a public charity gala!” Margaret shrieked.
Grandfather didn't even dignify her outburst with a glance, keeping his eyes locked entirely on my shaking husband.
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“You spent three years trying to convince the world my granddaughter was fragile and incompetent,” Everett continued.
“You just signed away every single share of Ashford Luxe without reading a single line of text.”
