Chapter 107 Coercion
Gemma wasn't backing down today. She slid a document across the mahogany desk, her manicured nails tapping against the folder.
"Preston, we've been married for half our lives. I'm getting older, and you know exactly what I've sacrificed—what my family has sacrificed—for you." Her voice dropped to steel. "My bottom line is my daughter. What belongs to her, she gets. Every. Last. Share."
Preston's eyes barely flickered toward the papers. "And this is?"
"Stock transfer agreement." Gemma's smile was all venom, no sweetness. "I don't care how much you favor Leopold. You're signing over those shares to Xiomara today. Combined with mine, she'll finally hold more than Leopold. She'll have the real power in this company."
Preston's jaw tightened. He stated the uncomfortable truth.
"Even if she holds majority shares, can she actually protect this empire?" His tone was clinical, detached. "Running a business this size requires someone with strategic vision. Someone who can execute."
Under the table, Xiomara's hands clenched into fists.
That bastard child. In her father's eyes, she'd never measure up to Leopold. All these years, she'd resented him—quietly, sometimes not so quietly. Now he was trying to steal what was rightfully hers. This meeting crystallized something dark in her mind: Leopold needed to be pushed out. Permanently.
Gemma's lips parted, ready to argue, but the words died in her throat. Because Preston was right—Xiomara's track record in management was underwhelming, to put it kindly.
But that didn't mean Gemma would hand the company to that woman's son. The humiliation would be unbearable.
She'd fought Quinlan for decades. When Quinlan gave Preston a son all those years ago, Gemma had lost that round. Now their children were in the ring, and Leopold was winning. History was repeating itself, and Gemma was losing again.
She refused to accept it.
She was Preston's legal wife. That had to count for something.
Gemma was betting everything on this power play.
But she'd forgotten one crucial detail: Quinlan had left Seaside City willingly back then. And Leopold had returned just as willingly now.
Gemma took a steadying breath, composing herself. "Xiomara is pregnant. Managing the company right now would stretch her too thin. But Bodhi can step up. He's ready."
Bodhi jumped at his cue. "Dad, Mom—whatever you need from me, I'm all in. One hundred percent."
"See?" Gemma's smile was triumphant. "Bodhi is the perfect solution. What more do you need?"
Preston's expression darkened, storm clouds gathering in his eyes. The three of them had choreographed this little intervention, thinking they could corner him into signing.
Family loyalty crumbling in the face of greed. How predictable.
It only strengthened his resolve. He wouldn't be manipulated.
He'd poured his youth, his dreams, his blood into building this empire. Celestial Waters Hotel would become a globally recognized brand—but only if the right person led it forward.
In one swift motion, Preston shredded the document. The sound of tearing paper echoed like a slap. He tossed the pieces into the trash.
"Self-awareness is a valuable trait." His voice cut like a blade. "You hold a position that matches your capabilities. Not what you think you deserve."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Some people—you give them everything, and they deliver half the results. Others? You give them a fraction, and they return it a hundredfold."
His gaze swept over all three of them.
"No matter how much you resent Leopold, he's the one who takes that fraction and multiplies it. Every single time."
Preston leaned back. "My advice? Stop fighting him. Ride his coattails instead. You'll profit more that way."
He let the implication hang in the air. Because you would never outperform him.
"Understand?"
Xiomara's voice cracked slightly. "Dad, Bodhi and I will work hard. We'll make you proud. Please—"
"Absolutely," Bodhi chimed in with misplaced confidence. "Three years. That's all we need. We'll take the company to the next level, I promise."
Gemma closed her eyes, barely suppressing a grimace.
Compared to that woman's son, these two had zero political instincts. They didn't know when to advance, when to retreat, when to shut the hell up.
Preston's expression softened slightly as he looked at his daughter. Concern for her pregnancy won out over irritation.
"Xiomara, trust me on this. I'm your father. My decisions are meant to protect you, not harm you."
The statement hit Gemma like a gut punch. Resentment and fury flashed through her eyes. She felt the weight of Xiomara and Bodhi's expectant stares, silently demanding she fix this.
Her useless allies.
But she swallowed her anger. "Bodhi, take Xiomara to rest. I need a private word with Preston."
"Of course, Mom." Bodhi helped his wife to her feet.
The moment the door clicked shut, Gemma's mask dropped.
"Fine. You won't sign the agreement." Her voice turned to ice. "But the wedding—you'll at least agree not to attend Leopold's wedding properly."
Preston's head snapped toward her, his glare sharp enough to draw blood. Gemma's heart stuttered, but she refused to show weakness. She held his gaze, waiting.
"As a father attending his son's wedding? Nothing wrong with that." His tone was deceptively mild.
Gemma had anticipated this response. She'd prepared her counterstrike.
"Publicly, you only have one child—Xiomara. If you suddenly acknowledge a son this age, think about the scandal." She leaned forward. "Your reputation will tank. And that will affect the company's image. Do you really want that?"
She framed it as concern for him, for the business. But Preston saw right through her.
What Gemma really feared: that he'd use the wedding as a stage to announce Leopold as the heir to Celestial Waters Hotel. In front of everyone who mattered.
"Since when do you care about the company's reputation?" Preston's question dripped with sarcasm.
Gemma bristled. "Of course I care—"
"If you cared," Preston cut her off, his voice dropping to something dangerous, "you wouldn't have leaked Quinlan's information to the press all those years ago."
Gemma's composure cracked. Her eyes darted away, unable to meet his stare. Panic clawed at her throat.
"I don't know what you're talking about." She studied the floor like it held the secrets of the universe.
Preston scoffed. "It's ancient history. If I wanted to punish you, I would've done it back then." He paused, then delivered the blow. "You should thank your parents. If they hadn't intervened, I would've divorced you the moment you destroyed Quinlan's life."
Gemma's face went rigid. "What... what did you say? You wanted to divorce me?"
Preston rose from his chair, moving behind her with predatory grace. His hand landed on her shoulder—not comforting, but possessive, controlling. He leaned down, his breath warm against her ear.
"You heard me perfectly. Your parents are the only reason we're still married. So tell me, Gemma—are you sure you want to push me into asking for a divorce again?"
Absolutely not.
Gemma would rather die than surrender her position as Mrs. Wipere. She'd never, ever let Quinlan take her place.
The thought of Quinlan standing where she'd stood, hosting parties, running the household, being the matriarch of the family Gemma had fought for—
Rage boiled in her veins. She'd burn the world down first.
Her shoulders sagged in defeat, the fight draining out of her. "Preston, after all these years of marriage... I never knew your heart was this cold."
Preston didn't respond. He simply walked out, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
All these years, he'd kept his promise—Gemma had never seen Quinlan again. But she knew. She knew he'd sent Quinlan somewhere comfortable. Somewhere safe. Somewhere better than the prison of this marriage.
Young, stupid Gemma had thought driving Quinlan away meant victory.
Now, older and wiser, Gemma understood the truth: the harder you tried to hold onto something, the faster it slipped through your fingers.
She'd lost. Completely and utterly.
Some regrets were too painful to speak aloud. So you buried them deep and pretended they didn't exist.
Preston arrived at the office and immediately sent Leopold a message: [Wrap up the overseas hotel issues. Return home immediately.]