He looked so smug. He thought this clause was his shield. He believed that because he sat in the CEO’s chair, because his name was on the door, because he drove the car, he owned it all.
He had forgotten the fundamental rule of Vance Global: Ownership is paper, not posture.
“You really want this, Mark?” I asked quietly. “Total separation based on legal title? No take-backs?”
“Don’t stall,” Mark snapped. “Sign it. Or I walk out, and my lawyers walk in.”
I looked at Chloe. “And you? You’re happy with this?”
Chloe smirked. “Mark is a visionary, Anna. He needs someone who can keep up. Don’t be bitter.”
“Bitter,” I repeated. “No. I’m not bitter. I’m clarity.”
I picked up the pen. My hand didn’t shake.
I signed my name at the bottom. Anna Vance.
I closed the folder. I kept the copy for myself and threw the original at Mark.
“Done,” I said. “You are free.”
Mark grabbed the papers, checking the signature like a greedy child. “Finally. God, I should have done this a year ago.”
“Get out,” I said. “Take your mistress and get out of my room. You are contaminating the air my children breathe.”
Mark laughed. “Gladly. I have a company to run. Enjoy the baby vomit, Anna.”
He turned and walked out, Chloe clicking behind him. The door swung shut.
I was alone.
The silence returned, but it wasn’t peaceful anymore. It was electric.
I threw off the covers. Pain shot through my abdomen, blinding and hot. I gritted my teeth.
“Not today,” I hissed to my body. “You don’t get to break today.”
I reached for the bedside phone. I dialed a number that wasn’t in the hospital directory. A number that went directly to a secure server in the basement of the Vance Global Tower.
“This is Anna Vance,” I said, my voice steel. “Authorization Code: Valkyrie-One-Zero.”
A deep voice answered. “Voiceprint confirmed. Good morning, Madam Chairman. We weren’t expecting you.”
“Plans have changed, Jameson,” I said. “Initiate the Leadership Transition Protocol. Is the legal team ready?”
“They are on standby, ma’am. We have been waiting for your signal for… a while.”
Jameson, the Head of Security, had been my father’s bodyguard. He knew Mark was a fraud. He had been watching.
“Effective immediately,” I commanded. “Mark Miller is hostile. Revoke all digital credentials. Lock him out of the servers. Freeze the corporate accounts linked to his signature. And prepare the wheelchair. I’m coming in.”
“Ma’am, you just had surgery,” Jameson hesitated.
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