The boardroom of Stone Industries was a battlefield of silence. Richard Stone sat at the head of the table, flanked by lawyers who looked like vultures in expensive wool. He had spent the last twelve hours drafting the "Incompetence Clause," a move designed to strip Scott of his title and install a "temporary" leadership committee—one controlled entirely by Richard and the Blackwoods.
"He's late," Richard muttered, checking his watch. "Even in his downfall, he's disrespectful."
"Maybe he's busy packing his desk," Theresa whispered, sitting in the observer's chair. Her eyes were dark with a vengeful triumph. She had waited for this moment since the kiss in the office.
Suddenly, the double doors didn't just open; they were held open by two men in dark suits who didn't belong to the building's security.
Scott walked in. He wasn't wearing his usual scowl. He looked calm—terrifyingly calm. He didn't sit in his usual chair. He stood at the foot of the table and leaned on the back of a chair, looking at his father with something that resembled pity.
"You're late, Scott," Richard barked. "Sit down. We have a vote to conduct regarding your future with this firm."
"Oh, I think we should wait for the Chairman," Scott said smoothly.
Richard snorted. "I am the Chairman of the Board, Scott. Don't play games."
"No, Father," Scott replied, his voice echoing with a new authority. "You are the Chairman of the Board. But you are not the owner of the Holdings. You've forgotten that while you were playing King, the Emperor was still breathing."
A cane tapped against the marble floor outside. The sound was slow, rhythmic, and heavy. The blood drained from Richard's face. The lawyers scrambled to their feet.
Into the room stepped Arthur 'Iron-Lung' Stone, Scott's grandfather. At eighty-eight years old, he was a legend—the man who had built the empire from a single warehouse into a global titan. He rarely left his estate in the Alps, but there he was, his sharp blue eyes scanning the room like a hawk.
"Father?" Richard stammered, his voice losing its iron edge. "What are you doing here? You haven't been in this building in three years."
"I heard my son was trying to play Caesar while I was still in the bath," the old man rasped. He looked at Scott and gave a small, rare nod. "And I heard my favorite grandson was being told he couldn't choose his own path."
Scott moved to his grandfather's side, offering an arm. The old man took it, leaning heavily on Scott—not out of weakness, but as a public display of alignment.
"Scott flew to see me last night," Arthur Stone announced to the silent room. "He told me about the merger. He told me about the Blackwoods. And he told me about a girl who had the spine to tell a Stone to go to hell."
Theresa gasped, her face turning a vivid shade of red.
"I like spine," Arthur continued, slamming his cane onto the table. "Richard, you've spent twenty years trying to turn this boy into a version of yourself. But you're a bureaucrat. Scott is a shark. And if a shark wants a particular fish, he gets the fish."
"Father, this is about the company's image!" Richard argued, his desperation showing. "The scandal—"
"The only scandal here is a man trying to fire his own blood because of a cup of coffee and a bruised ego," Arthur growled. "I still hold fifty-one percent of the voting shares of Stone Holdings, Richard. I haven't signed them over to you yet. And after today, I don't think I will."
The room was so quiet you could hear the hum of the air conditioning.
"As of this moment," Arthur said, looking at the lawyers, "I am exercising my right as majority shareholder. I am dissolving the current board. Scott is no longer just the CEO of the subsidiary. He is now the Managing Partner of Stone Holdings. He answers only to me."
Scott looked at his father. The power shift was absolute. In one move, Scott had gone from being a target to being his father's boss.
"And as for the Blackwood merger," Scott added, looking directly at Theresa, "it's canceled. We'll be acquiring a tech startup in the valley instead. They have better ethics and less... baggage."
Theresa stood up, her chair flying backward. "You'll regret this, Scott! You're throwing away decades of alliance for a girl who lives in a shoe box!"
"I'm choosing a life, Theresa," Scott said, his voice cold and final. "Something you wouldn't understand."
Arthur Stone chuckled, a dry, papery sound. "Go to your girl, Scott. I'll stay here and explain the new rules to your father. He always was a slow learner."
Scott didn't wait. He turned and ran. He didn't take his private elevator; he took the stairs, his heart pounding with a freedom he hadn't felt in thirty years. He had blocked every move his father made. He was powerful, he was the heir, and for the first time, he was his own man.