Chapter 3 - The Boardroom BacklashThe headquarters of Rhodes-Cross Global in downtown Boston was a tower of glass and steel, designed to look like a fortress. Today, it felt like an execution chamber.
I sat at the end of the long conference table, my suit slightly wrinkled, my face pale from the sleepless flight back from Europe. Across from me sat my mother, Victoria Keller-Cross, her diamond necklace reflecting the harsh fluorescent lights. Beside her was Camille and her father, the formidable patriarch Winston Rhodes.
"You've made a mockery of this family, Elliot," my mother said, her voice a sharp, aristocratic whip. She threw a folder of printouts onto the table—social media screenshots of our sudden, unexplained return from Florence, accompanied by rumors of a marriage crisis. "The stock is down four percent today. The board is demanding an explanation."
"The explanation is simple," I said, my voice low and dangerous as I looked directly at my mother. "You threatened the mother of my child. You used a fraudulent legal document to blackmail a woman whose only crime was loving me."
Victoria didn't even blink. "I protected our bloodline from an opportunist, Elliot. You were engaged to the heiress of the Rhodes family. I did what any mother of our status would do. I swept the trash off the porch."
"She is not trash!" I roared, slamming my fist against the mahogany table. The water glasses rattled. "She is the mother of your granddaughter! Her name is Bella, and she has our eyes, Mother! How could you do that to your own family?"
Winston Rhodes cleared his throat, a deep, rumbling sound that brought a sudden silence to the room. He leaned forward, his hands resting on his gold-headed cane.
"We don't care about the child, Elliot," Winston said coldly. "But we do care about control. Camille has informed me of your... reluctance to sign the non-paternal claim. My daughter has been very patient with you, but her patience has run out."
Camille stood up, sliding a new contract toward me.
"This is an amendment to our marriage agreement, Elliot," she said, her voice smooth and entirely devoid of emotion. "You will sign over your personal voting shares in the merger to me. In exchange, I will keep the recording of your phone call with Naomi private, and I will allow your little 'bastard' to live in peace with her mother in South Boston. If you refuse, I will release the recording to the press, claim marital abandonment, and file for a joint custody suit of Bella—using our resources to ensure Naomi is declared unstable and unfit."
I looked at the contract. It was a complete corporate takeover disguised as a marriage amendment. If I signed it, I would lose my company, my legacy, and my self-respect. But if I didn't, Naomi and Bella would be destroyed by the Rhodes family's bottomless legal pit.
"You have twenty-four hours to sign, Elliot," Camille whispered, leaning down so only I could hear. "Don't let your middle-class sentiments ruin your billionaire life."
They walked out of the room, leaving me alone in the vast, empty boardroom.
I pulled out my phone and dialed my private investigator. "Arthur," I said, my voice shaking with a cold, desperate resolve. "I need you to find Naomi and Bella. Now. Move them to a safe house. They are in danger."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Cross," the investigator’s voice came back, sounding tense. "But I was about to call you. I've been monitoring Naomi's apartment in South Boston. She's not there."
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My heart stopped. "What do you mean she's not there?"
"Her apartment has been cleared out, sir. And according to my sources at the harbor... she was seen boarding a private ferry owned by the Rhodes Group an hour ago."
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