Chapter 145

Richard's POV

I walked into the top floor of Blackwood Tower. It was already evening, but the top floor was still brightly lit, with the conference room filled with people.

I walked straight past Ethan's desk, ignoring his startled expression and the pile of urgent files. The door to my office closed behind me with a satisfying click. After making myself a cup of coffee, I sat down on the sofa to rest, completely disregarding the meeting room.

The door opened without a knock. Only Ethan would dare.

"Alpha," his voice was somewhat tense. "The board has been waiting in the conference room for over an hour. Your father—"

My eyes snapped open. "My father?"

"Yes. Mr. Gerald Blackwood arrived thirty minutes ago."

I downed the rest of my coffee in one gulp. I stood up, straightening my tie. "It's time to remind them who runs this company."

As I approached the conference room, the angry voices became clearer. I paused outside, listening to the mutiny brewing within.

"One billion dollars!" someone shouted, followed by the sound of something slamming against the table. "This isn't some minor oversight—it's catastrophic!"

"Gerald," another voice cut in, "your son has completely lost his mind. We're all suffering losses because he can't separate his personal vendettas from business decisions."

"The Blackwood Group exists to expand our influence and wealth," a third voice added, "not to indulge Richard's whims. He's forgotten his responsibilities to this company—to all of us."

I heard my father's deep growl, a sound that once would have made every wolf in our territory cower. Now it just sounded tired.

"You forget yourselves," Gerald warned, though his voice lacked conviction. "Richard through—"

"Through what? It's time we discussed a contingency plan."

Enough. I twisted the door handle, the click immediately silencing the room. Twenty pairs of eyes snapped toward me, widening with that beautiful mixture of fear and submission I'd come to expect.

I didn't speak. Didn't need to. My presence alone changed the atmosphere as I strolled to the head of the table, each step deliberate and unhurried. I could smell their anxiety as I pulled out my chair and sat down.

Only then did I look up, a thin smile playing on my lips.

"Please," I gestured broadly, "don't stop on my account. You all seemed to have so much to say about my leadership when I wasn't here. I'm fascinated to hear it now."

The silence stretched painfully. I could hear their rapid heartbeats, smell the cold sweat breaking out across foreheads.

Finally, the bravest of the shareholders cleared his throat.

"Richard," he began cautiously, "we're merely concerned about the one billion dollar loss. As stakeholders, we deserve an explanation."

A low, dangerous sound rumbled from my throat.

"Interesting," I leaned forward. "In the past few years I've multiplied this company's value several times over, adding tens of billions to your personal fortunes, not once did any of you demand an 'explanation' for my methods."

"Yet one decision you don't understand, and suddenly you're questioning my judgment? Demanding answers from me?"

They all instinctively lowered their gazes. No one could hold my stare.

"We... we didn't mean to imply..." he stammered, suddenly meek. "We just wondered why you didn't intervene when the stocks started falling."

"And what makes you think," I said, my voice dangerously soft, "that this move wasn't precisely calculated for Blackwood Group's long-term benefit?"

They nodded one by one in agreement.

"If there's nothing else," I smiled coldly, "I believe we're done here."

They filed out like scolded children, avoiding eye contact, mumbling apologies. Only my father remained, his weathered face unreadable as the door closed behind the last shareholder.

"Do you actually have a new strategy?" he asked bluntly.

"No." I didn't bother softening my tone with him.

Gerald's eyebrows shot up. "You lied to them?"

"I told them what they needed to hear. Those vultures don't have the spine to challenge me directly."

My father sighed, running a hand through his silver hair. "One day, Richard, you'll push them too far."

"By that time," I countered, "they'll be too dependent on me to do anything about it."

Gerald studied me for a long moment. "No one else could run Blackwood Group the way you do," he admitted reluctantly. "But one billion is no small sum. What was it for?"

I met his gaze steadily. "Elena."

His eyes widened, genuine emotion breaking through his usually stoic mask. "You found her?"

"Yes."

The old man's shoulders slumped with relief. "Thank God. I thought you two were finished."

I watched him carefully, still unsure how sincere his concern was.

"The money is to help her rebuild her family," I explained. "A necessary investment."

Gerald's expression brightened immediately. "The Winter family, rising again? That's brilliant, Richard. If their family can regain prominence, perhaps Elena won't hate us so much."

Yes, what's his greatest hope now? Isn't it to make up for past wrongs, hoping to win Elena back, to have that woman return?

---

When I arrived home, the house was quiet. The children were already asleep, and as I moved through the darkened hallways, my keen senses could hear their steady breathing.

I found myself pausing outside Max's room, the door slightly ajar. Silently, I stepped inside, drawn to the small figure buried under the covers.

The DNA test results had confirmed what I should have recognized immediately: Max was my son. My own flesh and blood had been right under my nose for months, and I hadn't seen it. Worse, I'd used him to humiliate Elena, questioning her fidelity, throwing his existence in her face like an accusation.

What kind of father doesn't recognize his own son?

I sank into the chair beside his bed, studying his peaceful face. He had my jawline, my eyebrows and nose. How could I have been so damn blind?

Leaning forward, I brushed my lips against his forehead, inhaling deeply. His scent touched something primal inside me.

"Mama," he murmured in his sleep, his small hand twitching on the blanket.

The word was a knife to my chest. All three children missed Elena terribly.

I closed my eyes, remembering Elena's words. "They're all yours. Take them all." Her broken voice haunted me, making it difficult to breathe.

What will it take for you to come home, Elena? The children need you. I can't do this alone.