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Chapter 7 - Chapter Seven: Blood in the Boardroom

Word Count: 5000 (Webnovel-compliant)

The air on the forty-third floor of Mwangi Towers was cold—not from the central AC, but from the weight of power in the room.

Elijah walked in through the mirrored elevator doors, his steps deliberate. His charcoal suit fit like it had been stitched for this very moment. He no longer wore the anonymity of a janitor. He wasn't hiding behind shadows or silence anymore.

This was Elijah Mwangi—the rightful heir to a corporate empire—and today, he was claiming his seat.

Twelve pairs of eyes turned toward him as he entered the expansive boardroom. No one spoke. Not even Grace.

She sat at the head of the oval glass table, dressed in white, her pearl necklace glinting under the lights. Her expression was perfectly controlled. Not even a flicker of surprise crossed her features.

"Elijah," she said after a beat, her voice as smooth as ever. "You're early."

"I didn't want to be late for the storm," Elijah replied, pulling out the leather chair across from her and sitting down without waiting for an invitation.

The other board members shifted uncomfortably. Elias Kibet, the former CFO and one of the few allies Elijah had in the room, cleared his throat and stood.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is not a social visit. As of this morning, Elijah Mwangi has officially been reinstated as the primary shareholder of Mwangi Group of Companies, holding fifty-one percent control, as per the original will of the late Daniel Mwangi."

Gasps fluttered around the room. A few mouths opened, then closed.

Grace's smile didn't budge. She looked like a queen watching a pawn march across her chessboard, too amused to panic.

Elias handed a sealed envelope to the board's legal advisor. "All documents have been verified by the Ministry of Commerce and the Internal Board of Trustees."

One of the older men at the far end of the table leaned forward. "That means Elijah can… remove sitting executives?"

"And veto board decisions," Elias confirmed.

Elijah met Grace's eyes. "Starting with the one who tried to erase my mother and bury my name."

Grace finally spoke, the sharpness in her voice subtle but cutting. "You've come back to play hero. But this company isn't a fairy tale. It's war. And you're walking into the lion's den without a sword."

He reached into his leather folder and pulled out a thick stack of documents, placing them on the table with a satisfying thump.

"Then let's talk about the skeletons in the den."

Grace's eyes flickered toward the folder, then back to his face. She said nothing.

Elijah opened the folder and spread out the contents.

"These are detailed audits and internal correspondences—proof that money from the company's welfare and development funds was diverted into personal accounts. Real estate in Dubai, political donations in Rwanda, private jets logged under 'client outreach'. All of it linked to Grace and her shell corporations."

Murmurs rose.

Grace's lawyer stood abruptly. "This is slander. These records are unverifiable. Any of them could be forged."

"I have notarized copies from the original accounting firm. Their lead auditor has agreed to testify under oath. The same man who vanished six years ago."

Gasps again. One board member, a quiet woman with silver hair, turned pale.

Elias stepped forward once more. "I suggest the board reviews these claims seriously before voting on the current leadership."

Grace stood slowly, pushing her chair back with perfect grace.

"If we're reviewing credibility," she said coolly, "perhaps the board would be interested in these."

She withdrew another file from her handbag and tossed it onto the table. Inside were official court documents, police reports, and scanned screenshots.

"According to these records, Elijah Mwangi—under his false identity—was involved in fraudulent scholarship acquisition, falsification of academic records, and impersonation of a university official. Royal Ridge University has issued a formal suspension, pending a full investigation."

Elijah didn't look surprised.

Grace smirked. "In simpler terms, our supposed heir is a fraud. And his entire claim may now be subject to a lawsuit."

The room turned into a hum of murmurs again.

Elijah remained seated, his expression unreadable.

Grace looked around the table, her voice dripping with confidence. "I move that the board votes to suspend Elijah Mwangi's privileges as a shareholder until these investigations are resolved."

Elias was the first to object, but several others were clearly shaken.

Then the doors to the boardroom opened.

Amina walked in, dressed in a dark blue blazer, holding a slim tablet in her hand.

"I wouldn't vote just yet," she said.

Some board members looked confused, but Grace's smile faltered.

Amina walked toward the projector control panel and connected the tablet. The lights dimmed, and a video began to play on the main screen.

It was footage—grainy, but clear enough.

Grace handing a manila envelope to Kalonzo in an underground parking lot. The audio was muffled, but the words were just clear enough to pick out phrases like "frame him," "make sure it leads back to the university," and "keep it clean."

More footage followed—transactions traced to Grace's aliases, then matched against known shell accounts in Mauritius and the Seychelles.

By the time the footage ended, the room had gone silent.

Amina looked around the table. "You don't need to like Elijah. You don't even need to trust him. But if you're thinking of protecting her, you better ask yourselves—how many more scandals can Mwangi Group survive?"

Grace remained standing, but the color had drained from her face.

Elijah stood as well. "I'm not here to erase history. I'm here to correct it. Starting now."

No one spoke. Not even Grace.

---

After the board meeting, Elijah and Amina stepped into the private elevator at the far end of the tower. The moment the doors closed, Amina exhaled.

"That… was insane."

He leaned against the mirrored wall, finally allowing the tension to drop from his shoulders.

"I've wanted to do that since I was sixteen."

"You were brilliant," she said softly.

He looked at her. "So were you. That footage—how did you even get it?"

"Kalonzo's driver. He owed me a favor."

He gave her a half-smile, then went quiet.

"You okay?" she asked.

He hesitated, then nodded.

"Part of me wanted her arrested right there," he admitted. "But the other part…"

"…knows this war isn't won in a single room."

He nodded slowly. "Exactly."

When the elevator reached the parking basement, the doors opened—but before they could step out, a security officer ran toward them.

"You need to come with me," the man said, breathless.

"What happened?" Amina asked, instantly alert.

"There's been… a break-in. At the apartment where you're both staying."

Elijah's heart sank.

---

The apartment door had been kicked open.

Papers were scattered. The safe under Elijah's desk had been drilled through. And Amina's laptop—the one with backups of every file—was missing.

They stood in silence, surveying the damage.

"Grace's reach is wider than I thought," Elijah murmured.

Amina knelt down and picked up a torn photo from the floor. It was of Elijah as a child, standing between his mother and father in front of Mwangi Towers.

The corner had been burned.

He looked at it, jaw tightening.

"This won't stop us," she said firmly.

"I know," he whispered. "But it means we're out of time."

She stood and looked at him, eyes steady. "Then we take the next step."

He turned to her. "You're still in?"

"I was never out."

---

Later that night, Elijah stood alone on the rooftop, staring out at the Nairobi skyline.

Lights twinkled across the city, masking the chaos brewing below.

Footsteps approached, and Amina joined him, holding two mugs of coffee.

She handed him one and stood beside him, her voice soft.

"What now?"

He sipped and said nothing for a moment.

"Now, we go public. We take everything we have—and we expose her to the world."

Amina nodded. "That'll make her desperate."

"Exactly," he said. "And desperation makes people reckless."

She smiled faintly. "So we let her destroy herself?"

"We give her the rope," he said. "And she'll do the rest."

They stood together in silence, the wind brushing through their hair.

Amina leaned into his side. He didn't pull away.

For the first time in years, he didn't feel alone.

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