The boardroom felt colder than it should have. Anastasia straightened her black blazer, smoothing down a stray strand of hair from her bun, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor as she walked through the corridor that led to the top floor of Laurent Corporation. Her heart thundered—but her face was calm, composed, collected.
She entered the boardroom alone.
Her mother had been too drained to attend. The past weeks had taken their toll on her, and today, her absence was both a sign of weakness and a transfer of power.
Whispers rose like smoke.
"Is that Anastasia Laurent?" "Why is she taking the CEO seat?" "Wasn't she just a student until recently?"
Ignoring the murmurs, Anastasia walked forward, back straight, spine made of iron, and took the seat at the head of the table—the one her father had sat in for decades. She didn't look to either side. She didn't need to. They were all watching her.
Dante entered moments later.
His presence drew a deeper hush, like the wind being sucked out of the room. He didn't sit. He simply leaned against the far wall, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp and unreadable as always, a silent sentinel behind the flames.
The board secretary cleared her throat.
"We will begin today's meeting by reviewing current shares, shareholder positions, and company losses in the last two quarters."
Then the door creaked.
He entered.
Maxime Laurent strolled into the room with the easy arrogance of a man who believed he already owned everything he saw. Clad in a tailored navy suit and an air of smugness, he walked to the front row, not bothering to hide the smirk that twisted across his lips when his eyes locked on Anastasia.
He sat down. Uninvited.
"Where is your mother, Ana?" he asked. "Why are you sitting there like you own the place? Last I checked, no one appointed you CEO."
The room fell silent. She didn't blink.
"You seem to have forgotten something, Uncle Maxime," she replied with a calm edge to her voice. "My father's will. The one that clearly stated I would take over the company in the event of his death."
He laughed. "You were in school. Your mother had to step in. It was only natural."
"And now I'm not in school anymore," she replied.
That silenced him for a moment. But not the others.
"How do we know she's capable?" "What experience does she have?" "Look at the state of the company!"
A barrage of doubt crashed against her. Anastasia kept her face neutral, but inside, her lungs ached. She wanted to scream at them. At how they had once bowed to her father, and now turned against his legacy like vipers.
Her eyes flicked to Dante.
He hadn't moved. But his eyes burned into her like a dare: show them who you are.
She exhaled.
"I'm not here to prove myself with words. I came with facts." She reached into her briefcase and pulled out a folder. Thick. Labeled. Color-coded.
She flipped it open and stood.
"These are financial reports from the past three quarters. Transactions that raised red flags. Embezzlement that went unnoticed until I reviewed these files in my mother's office. Cross-check the timelines—every single one of them began right after Maxime Laurent acquired shares in this company."
Maxime scoffed.
"Careful, niece. Accusations like that are dangerous."
"Then sue me," she said flatly. "If I'm wrong."
Gasps. Chairs shifted. Papers rustled. She could see two board members lean toward each other, whispering with uncertainty.
"She's bluffing." "Or not. That line about the account drainages… she might be onto something."
Maxime regained his composure quickly.
"You are too young to understand how businesses like this work. You should let someone with experience take over. Like me."
Anastasia's lips curled.
"The same someone who didn't exist in this company until last year? Who wormed his way in, bought shares in secrecy, and now expects to sit on the throne my father built? No. This meeting is over."
She stood. Tall. Cold. Imposing.
"My mother is still the CEO of this company. And until she says otherwise, no decision is valid without her signature."
With that, she walked out, the heavy silence behind her a testament to how deeply her words had landed.
---
The elevator doors slid open and Dante stepped in after her, slow and quiet.
"You did well," he said at last.
She kept her eyes on the numbers.
"Thanks."
"But it won't be enough. Maxime won't stop. Neither will the ones who want to see you fall. They'll come harder next time."
"I know."
"Good. Then you're not as naive as I thought."
She looked up at him, her expression unreadable. "You wanted me to break."
"I wanted to see if you'd survive."
The doors opened, and he stepped out first.
---
Dupont Estate
Sunlight streamed through the tall windows of the Dupont dining room, catching on the crystalware and china as Caroline Dupont sipped her coffee with all the elegance of a queen in exile.
"You will be going on the blind date today," her father, Charles, said, not bothering to look up from his newspaper.
Caroline lowered her cup. "Excuse me?"
"You heard your father," Colette chimed in. "This could be your last chance. You keep turning them down, Caroline. This one is important. He's your father's friend from Monaco's son."
"Is he also spineless and boring like the rest of them?" Caroline asked sweetly.
"Do not test me," Charles snapped, finally lowering his paper. "If you don't go, we will begin reassessing your inheritance. And everything else you enjoy so generously under this roof."
"Oh, my god," Caroline laughed bitterly, setting her cup down with a sharp clink. "This again? Threatening me with money and titles like that's supposed to make me crawl back to your outdated puppet show of a life."
"You need to think about your future."
"I am, Mother. Which is exactly why I'm done being paraded around like a doll in exchange for political connections."
Charles stared at her coldly. "So, what are you going to do? Move out and get a job?"
Caroline stood slowly, tugging her silk robe around her tighter. Her chin lifted.
"Yes. That's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm moving out. Today."
Colette stood up, alarmed. "Caroline—don't be foolish."
"Too late. I was foolish when I thought I could ever be more than a bargaining chip to either of you."
Charles rose, his voice low. "If you walk out that door, you walk away from the Dupont name."
Caroline's eyes glimmered. Not with tears. With steel.
"Then I'll build one better."
She turned and walked out, her heels clicking with finality across the polished floor, leaving behind her stunned parents and a storm just waiting to be unleashed.