Page 19 of Entwined
The words barely left Xander’s mouth when Vaughn’s fists crashed onto the table, the impact reverberating through the room. “I won’t stand for this,” he snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. “I refuse to share duties with Joey. In fact, I want to contest the will.”
“Vaughn, calm down,” Xander replied, his voice firm, but not unkind. “Your father anticipated there might be disputes. That’s why he included an addendum in the will—anyone who contests it will forfeit all rights to the inheritance previously designated.”
Vaughn’s eyes widened, disbelief and frustration twisting his features. “How is that legal?” he demanded, his voice tinged with desperation.
“I assure you, it is,” Xander responded smoothly. “Your father was more than generous with each of you. It would be wise to accept what he’s given and move forward together.”
The room felt stifling. I could feel my heart pounding as I pulled a handkerchief from my coat pocket, dabbing at the sweat that had begun to bead on my forehead. Vaughn’s outburst had sent my blood pressure soaring.
Easton noticed immediately, his concern evident as he leaned in and touched my cheek. “You’re burning up,” he said softly, his voice laced with worry.
Simone was at my side in an instant, her hand resting gently on my shoulder. “You need to rest, Joey,” she urged, her tone gentle yet firm. “You’ve been through so much these past few weeks. It’s no wonder you’re feeling unwell.”
I nodded, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me. As I rose from my chair, Vaughn still refused to meet my gaze, his anger a palpable force between us. Simone and Easton flanked me as we moved toward the door, their presence a small comfort in the midst of the storm.
“I’ll start working on the paperwork,” Xander called out after us, his voice a steady anchor in the turmoil.
“Thank you, Xander,” I murmured, my voice barely a whisper as I made my way out, the weight of the day pressing down on me with each step.
It was long past dark when I heard the door creak open, my half-asleep mind struggling to grasp the intrusion. I would’ve locked it, but the constant flow of staff bringing me tea, soup, and medication had kept it ajar. The sudden weight of someone sitting on the edge of my bed sent my heart racing.
Vaughn.
His heavy breathing filled the room, accompanied by the unmistakable scent of whiskey. “Joey,” he muttered, his voice thick with drunkenness.
I kept my eyes closed, forcing my breathing to remain steady. There was no telling what he might do in this state, and the slur in his voice only heightened my unease.
“You think you’ve won,” he sneered, his words laced with bitterness. “But you haven’t. I won’t share CEO duties with you, and I’ll make sure the board doesn’t approve your appointment. And this mansion… it’s been in the Ashworth family for two hundred years. You’re not an Ashworth, and I’ll find a way to get it from you.”
His words sliced through the darkness, a chilling promise that sent a shiver down my spine. I stayed still, feigning sleep, as he pushed himself off the bed and began pacing the room. The sound of his fingers brushing against the few personal items on my dresser made my stomach twist. Most of my things were still in the primary bedroom—too painful to retrieve so soon after Colson’s passing.
Vaughn’s footsteps grew louder as he circled back to the bed. The scent of his cologne, mingled with whiskey, was overpowering as he leaned over me. I heard the faint clinking of my ceramic Disney figurines on the nightstand, the same ones I had cherished since childhood. He had already taken my Donald Duck from my desk at AFC, and it hadn’t been returned.
I cracked open one eye, just enough to see him gripping my Minnie Mouse figurine in his fist. My heart pounded as I watched him stand, his movements heavy and deliberate. He left the room without another word, the door clicking shut behind him.
I exhaled, finally allowing my body to relax. But the tension in the room lingered, as if his venomous threats had seeped into the walls.
As I stepped into the sleek, marble-floored lobby of Ashworth Financial, a sense of foreboding settled over me. The weight of Colson’s legacy hung heavy on my shoulders, and today’s vote would determine whether I could carry it forward. My heels clicked sharply against the polished floor as I walked toward the elevator, the familiar hum of the office a distant comfort in the midst of the tension swirling inside me.
The past few days had been a blur of recovery and preparation. Vaughn’s threats still echoed in my mind, but I couldn’t afford to show any weakness today. The board was aware of Colson’s request for Co-CEO duties, and they would be voting on it soon. This was my chance to prove that I belonged here—not just as the widow of Colson Ashworth, but as someone who could lead this company with the same vision and determination.
The elevator doors slid open with a quiet ding, and I stepped inside, pressing the button for the executive floor. As the elevator ascended, I took a deep breath, smoothing down my tailored black dress. I worked at Ashworth Financial for three years, and in the past few months, I had immersed myself in every aspect of the company. I knew our offerings inside and out, and I was prepared for whatever questions the board might throw at me.
When the doors opened, I was greeted by the sight of familiar faces, all of whom turned to look at me as I stepped out. Some offered polite nods, others whispered among themselves, their eyes flicking between me and the large conference room where the vote would take place.
As I made my way down the hall, I caught sight of Vaughn emerging from his office. Our eyes met, and for a moment, the air between us crackled with unspoken tension. He didn’t say a word, but the hard set of his jaw spoke volumes. I wasn’t naive enough to think he’d take this lying down.
Inside the conference room, the atmosphere was thick with anticipation. The long, polished table was surrounded by members of the board, their expressions ranging from curious to skeptical. I took my seat, forcing myself to remain calm as I waited for the meeting to begin.
“Mrs. Ashworth,” Martin Wallace, the Chairman of the Board, addressed me, his tone polite but measured. “Thank you for joining us today. We understand this is a difficult time, but we appreciate your commitment to the company.”
“Thank you, Martin,” I replied, my voice steady. “I’m here to continue Colson’s vision for Ashworth Financial.”
Martin nodded and turned to the rest of the board. “As you all know, we’re here to discuss Colson’s request to appoint Josephine as Co-CEO alongside Vaughn. We’ve reviewed her contributions to the company and her work over the past few months. Today, we’ll be casting our votes.”
The tension in the room grew as Martin continued, outlining the process and inviting questions from the board. Vaughn sat at the far end of the table, his gaze fixed on me with an intensity that bordered on hostility.
“Mrs. Ashworth,” Richard Davenport, one of the board members, spoke up, his tone pointed. “What do you believe qualifies you for this role, especially considering your relatively short tenure with the company?”
