Page 18 of The Vows He Buried
I clicked open the first file, a spreadsheet labeled“Project Nightingale - Consulting Fees.”It was a slush fund. Millions of dollars funneled through a shell corporation to pay off politicians, inspectors, and journalists. The names were a who’s who of New York’s supposedly untouchable elite.
Another file contained emails between Evelyn and the Vale Global CFO, discussing strategies to hide profits in offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands and Switzerland, a clear case of massive tax evasion.
A third held the details of a major real estate deal in Dubai, revealing a ten-million-dollar bribe paid to a government official, disguised as a finder’s fee.
This wasn't just corporate malfeasance. This was a criminal enterprise on a breathtaking scale. This was the kind of evidence that didn't just trigger an SEC investigation; it triggered FBI raids at dawn. This was the kind of information that could dismantle the Vale dynasty forever, sending Evelyn and her cronies to federal prison for the rest of their lives.
I leaned back in my chair, stunned. This was information no private investigator, no lawyer, could have obtained. This was the fruit of high-level corporate espionage, the kind that required immense resources, technical skill, and a complete lack of fear.
There was only one person who could have done this. Lucian Thorne.
He hadn't just been watching. He had been acting. He had seen my small, personal war and had decided to arm me with a nuclear weapon. Why? To destabilize a competitor? To watch the chaos unfold? Or for some other, more personal reason I couldn’t begin to fathom? It didn’t matter. He had given me the power to not just win, but to annihilate.
I sat there for a long time, the two sets of evidence spread before me on the table.
On my left, the file from Harper. The proof of personal betrayal. The key to my freedom, to the annulment, to exposing Maddox and Sienna for the liars they were. It was the weapon to win my personal war.
On my right, the black USB drive. The proof of a criminal empire. The key to destroying Vale Global, to imprisoning Evelyn, to ending their dynasty in fire and disgrace. It was the weapon to win a war I hadn't even known I was fighting.
A slow, cold smile spread across my face. It was not a happy smile. It was the smile of a queen who has just been handed the swords of her enemies. The game was no longer about survival. It was about domination.
“If this is war,” I whispered to the empty, sunlit room, “I’ve already won the first move.”
Chapter 13: The Boardroom
The BlakeCore boardroom was a theater of sharks. It was a sleek, glass-walled space on the top floor of the Greenwich tower, designed to intimidate, with a panoramic view of the Long Island Sound that seemed to suggest a mastery over the very horizon. A long, black granite table polished to a mirror shine reflected the grim, predatory faces of the board members. They were old men, mostly, titans of industry and finance who had known my father for decades, men who smelled weakness like blood in the water. And right now, the water was red.
My brother, Jasper, sat at the head of the table, in our father’s chair. He looked exhausted, the skin stretched tight over his cheekbones, his jaw clenched. He was wearing a perfect suit, his tie knotted with precision, but the pressure was visible in the tense line of his shoulders. For two weeks, since my father had collapsed from a massive stroke and slipped into a coma, Jasper had been holding the company together with sheer force of will. But the sharks were circling.
“With all due respect, Jasper,” one of them, a portly man named Arthur Henderson with a booming voice and small, piggy eyes, was saying, “your father’s condition is… precarious. The market needs stability. It needs a firm hand on the tiller. We need to discuss appointing an interim CEO from outside the family.”
It was a coup, cloaked in the language of corporate concern. They were trying to wrest control of my father’s life’s work while he lay helpless in a hospital bed.
“My father is still the CEO,” Jasper countered, his voice dangerously even. “And I am the COO. I have the situation undercontrol. Our Q3 numbers are strong, and the launch of Project Chimera is on schedule.”
“A project your father spearheaded,” Henderson shot back. “We need to know who will lead us if… the worst should happen. We can’t let this company, our investments, be run on sentiment.”
The double doors to the boardroom swung open.
Every head turned. The hushed, tense argument died instantly.
I walked in.
I had chosen my armor with care. A power suit, tailored to perfection, in a shade of deep, unapologetic crimson. The color of blood, of life, of war. Beneath it, a simple black silk shell. My hair was pulled back in a sleek, severe chignon, and my heels clicked with sharp, deliberate authority on the polished floor. I was not the ghost of Savannah Vale. I was Savannah Blake, and I had come to claim my kingdom.
A wave of shock rippled through the room. These men knew me as the quiet, artistic daughter who had married into the Vale dynasty and disappeared. They knew me as Mrs. Maddox Vale, a society wife. They did not know the woman who stood before them now.
Jasper’s face was a mask of stunned disbelief, quickly followed by a wave of profound, bone-deep relief. He didn’t know I was coming. This was my surprise.
“Savannah?” he breathed.
Arthur Henderson recovered first, his piggy eyes narrowing with displeasure. “Mrs. Vale. This is a closed meeting of the board. I’m afraid you’re not welcome here.”
I let a small, cold smile touch my lips. I walked slowly towards the table, my gaze sweeping over each of their faces, letting them feel the full weight of my presence. I didn’t stop until I reached the empty chair beside Jasper, at the head of the table.
“It’s Ms. Blake,” I said, my voice clear and steady, resonating in the sudden, tomb-like silence of the room. I looked directly at Henderson. “And as the beneficial owner of the largest single block of voting shares in this company, after my father, I believe any meeting discussing its leadership is very much my business.”
The statement landed like a grenade. It was true. My father had placed a significant portion of his shares in a trust for me years ago, a trust that the Vales had never been able to touch. For three years, I had let the dividends accumulate, managed by Harper, my proxy vote assigned to my father. Now, I was taking it back.
