Chapter 14 - THE DAY I TOOK BACK MY FATHER'S COMPANY
Julian had been there.
The night my father died.
The night that eventually placed him on a path toward controlling Hartwell Industries.
I stood in Margaret's kitchen listening to Allison Reed's trembling voice.
"Are you certain?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Did you see Julian enter the room?"
She hesitated.
"I saw him on the upstairs landing, outside Mr. Hart's bedroom. He told me the family had everything under control."
My stomach tightened.
"Did you witness him harm my father?"
"No."
Her voice broke.
"But I knew something was terribly wrong."
I closed my eyes.
"Allison, will you speak with the investigators?"
"Yes."
For the first time in eleven years, someone who'd been present during my father's final hours was willing to tell the truth.
I gave Allison the appropriate contact information and immediately informed Rachel.
Then I returned to Hartwell headquarters.
A special board meeting had been scheduled.
Independent investigators had expanded their review.
The directors had received preliminary findings.
And Margaret had asked me to attend as the controlling shareholder's representative.
When I entered the boardroom, Julian was already there with his attorney.
His expression changed when he saw me.
"Maya."
I walked past him.
No greeting.
No argument.
No pleading.
I sat in my father's chair.
Celeste wasn't present.
Human Resources had placed her on administrative leave while investigating the workplace assault and related misconduct allegations.
For once, there was no secretary standing beside Julian telling everyone how important he was.
Margaret opened the meeting.
"Thank you all for attending."
Julian leaned back.
"Before we begin, I'd like to address the defamatory accusations circulating about me."
Margaret looked at him.
"You'll have an opportunity to respond through counsel."
She turned toward Daniel.
"Please present the findings."
The screen illuminated.
Suspicious payments.
Related-party transactions.
Forged or disputed documents.
Undisclosed conflicts of interest.
Altered company records.
And evidence suggesting that funds had been routed through Crownbridge Consulting and other connected entities without adequate business justification.
Julian's face grew paler with each slide.
His attorney occasionally interrupted to reserve objections or dispute conclusions.
Daniel carefully distinguished confirmed transactions from matters still under investigation.
Then Margaret addressed the directors.
"The company's independent review has identified serious breaches of governance and internal controls. We must act to preserve Hartwell Industries and protect its employees, investors, and legitimate operations."
She paused.
"The motion before us is to terminate Julian Bennett's employment as chief executive officer in accordance with the applicable agreements, subject to counsel's guidance concerning the consequences of that termination."
Julian stood.
"You can't do this!"
Margaret didn't raise her voice.
"Please sit down."
He turned toward me.
"Maya, stop this."
I looked at him.
For seven years, I'd wanted him to understand me.
To listen.
To value our marriage.
To respect what my father built.
Now he wanted me to rescue him from the consequences of his own actions.
I stood slowly.
"Julian, my father trusted you."
He swallowed.
"I loved you."
I held his gaze.
"Then you should understand how much your choices hurt me."
He looked away.
I continued.
"You lied about our marriage. You allowed another woman to publicly assault me. You attempted to use documents and medical claims to undermine my authority."
The room was silent.
"And the evidence suggests you exploited the company my father spent his life building."
Julian's hands tightened.
"Maya—"
"I'm not going to protect your title at the expense of the employees who trusted us."
Margaret called for the vote.
The motion passed.
Julian Bennett was removed as CEO.
His company access remained disabled, and he was instructed to preserve all records and cooperate with the ongoing investigation through counsel.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he looked at me with an expression I'd never seen before.
Not confidence.
Not contempt.
Fear.
"You think you've won?"
I answered quietly.
"This isn't a game, Julian."
Security escorted him from the executive floor.
I watched the door close.
Seven years of marriage had not disappeared.
Neither had the pain.
But the power he held over my father's company was gone.
Later that afternoon, Margaret and I addressed Hartwell employees.
I explained that the company was cooperating with independent investigators and taking steps to strengthen oversight.
I reassured them that leadership changes did not mean abandoning the workforce.
And I promised that transparency, accountability, and employee security would guide our decisions.
When I finished, the room was silent.
Then someone began clapping.
An older machinist.
His name was Frank Miller.
He'd worked for my father for thirty-four years.
Others joined.
I felt tears rise.
Frank approached me afterward.
"Your dad would've been proud, Miss Hart."
I swallowed.
"Thank you, Frank."
He smiled.
"Welcome home."
That evening, Rachel called with another update.
Authorities had taken significant investigative steps concerning the suspected financial crimes and Robert Hart's death.
But before we finished speaking, she hesitated.
"Maya, there's something else."
"What?"
"Celeste Price has requested to speak with investigators."
I frowned.
"Why?"
"She claims Julian deceived her about his marital status and about the source of the money entering Crownbridge."
I felt a familiar wave of anger.
"She slapped me while calling herself his wife."
"I know."
"What does she want?"
Rachel paused.
"She's offering documents and messages she says will prove Julian and Victoria planned everything."
I stared at the window.
Then Rachel revealed the final piece of information.
"Celeste says Victoria promised her ten million dollars to help remove you from the company."
My breath caught.
"Ten million?"
"Yes."
"And what did she have to do?"
Rachel's voice grew quiet.
"Help create a public record portraying you as unstable, aggressive, and unfit to control Hartwell."
I looked toward the faint bruise on my cheek in the window's reflection.
Suddenly, I understood.
May you like
Celeste's slap hadn't merely been jealousy.
My public humiliation had been part of the plan.
