Chapter 63 The Shareholders Meeting
ONE WEEK LATER
The morning of the shareholders meeting felt like walking into a storm I couldn’t really escape.
I had managed to dress with precision like it was meant to shield me from anything that was left to ruin me further.
I wore a tailored blazer sharp enough to slice through tension, my hair was pulled back into a tight bun and my heels made each step deliberate and assertive—but the armor I had carefully constructed felt brittle beneath the weight of everything I’d been carrying this past week.
There were whispered conversations in the hallways yet, every sideways glance from the staff and every subtle murmur in the elevator pressed into me like a cold wind against an exposed skin.
No doubt that I felt hollow, and yet taut, like a string pulled so tight it could snap at any moment.
I was trying so hard to win at the game of confidence.
But my hands trembled slightly as I held the edge of the conference table, plus my palms were slick with nerves that I refused to acknowledge aloud.
I had spent the past seven days replaying every memory, every touch, every word Jack had said, and every lie that had left me reeling.
Indeed, I blamed myself—my own weakness for trusting, for falling in love, for letting my heart make me vulnerable like this. It hurt more than anything to know that—that love had led me straight into betrayal. I'm still hurt.
But I can't let anyone see through my cracks.
"I'm Elena Vale." I mumbled that reminder to myself.
The conference room was packed.
The shareholders, the board, everyone in the city’s finance and media circles who had any inkling of Vale Corp’s power—they were all here, and I could feel them studying me as though my very expression would reveal the answer to some riddle they’d been whispering about behind closed doors.
I could hear it—the soft clicks of heels, the rustle of papers, the low murmur of speculation.
Jack wasn’t here yet, I realized that with a jagged intake of breath and a part of me wanted him to be, I wanted to see the shock on his face when he saw me like this—cool, and composed. I wouldn't let him see that I was just a woman broken beneath the surface.
Before I could suck in another breath, I saw him.
Jack Roman.
As I looked up, my stomach twisted into knots and for a brief, fleeting second I couldn’t breathe.
He was there, perfectly poised, like nothing had changed, but I knew everything had. I could feel the intensity of his gaze even from across the room, and it burned through me without permission.
I didn’t really want to look, I didn’t want to acknowledge the pull that still drew me to him despite everything and yet, my eyes betrayed me.
I swallowed the lump at the back of my throat as I gripped the table tighter.
“Elena,” my father’s voice cut through the hum of the room. He was seated at the head of the table looking authoritative, and implacable as ever. “Shall we begin?”
I nodded, and summoned an unbroken sound from my vocals though my insides trembled. “Yes, let’s begin.”
Mark was next to him, stone-faced, his eyes flicking toward me briefly before returning to the spreadsheets in front of him.
Richard was across the room, and I could feel his smirk—half triumph, half disgust—but I refused to acknowledge him beyond a controlled glance.
And then there was Jack, who took a seat a few chairs down, his expression unreadable, but I could feel the tension radiating from him like heat from a flame.
Now, I hated him and loved him at the same goddamn time.
I wanted to scream at him, to shake him until he admitted everything. But I didn't, it wasn't like I could do that here.
I had to remain in control because I was still the CEO. So I had to act like it, even if my heart was bleeding inside.
The meeting began with the usual formalities, reports, financial updates, projections—but all I could hear was the sound of my own heartbeat, hammering, loud and accusatory in my chest. I forced myself to listen, to nod, and to make the right expressions at the right times even though it was hard.
I had to appear collected and untouchable.
A shareholder asked a question about the recent market dip, and I answered crisply and confidently with a steady voice and sharp eyes. But my mind kept replaying last week—Jack’s betrayal, Layla’s death, the lies, the manipulation.
Each memory was a jagged shard cutting through my resolve. So I had to bury it under professionalism, and under sheer force of will.
Jack’s eyes flicked to me once, just briefly, and I felt the sharp sting of longing—and the hotter sting of anger. I longed for his arms, his kisses and cuddles and the thought made my heart break further.
Oh.. The little things I can't have anymore.
And God—He had no right to look at me like that, after everything. I would not allow him to see me falter. I would not allow him any claim over the pieces of me he hadn’t already shattered.
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur of numbers and legal jargon, but I moved through it like a ghost with purpose. I smiled when required, nodded at suggestions, dismissed trivial debates, all the while feeling the raw ache of betrayal in every fiber of my being.
The tears I had cried earlier in the week were nothing compared to the ones threatening to spring from my eyes now, unbidden and cruel.
And through it all, I couldn’t escape the thought that Jack had been part of it all from the start, that every moment, every smile, every shared glance had been laced with deception. I hated him, I hated that I still loved him.
Yet even in that hatred, a quiet, burning resolve began to take hold that I would survive this. I would take back everything—my company, my power, my dignity...
“Next item on the agenda,” my father intoned, and I straightened, biting back a shudder.
It was time to vote for the CEO's position.
The room felt suddenly smaller and suffocating, like the walls themselves were leaning in to watch me crumble.
I could hear the clicks of the voting machines, the soft rustle of papers, the polite clearing of throats, but my own heartbeat was a deafening drum in my ears.
God—Layla wasn’t here.
She had always been the one who steadied me, who whispered encouragement when the world felt like it was tilting but she was gone, and I was nothing but a solitary figure on display.
I felt Jack’s gaze from across the table but I refused to look at him.
I had to pretend that his presence didn’t slice through me like ice, that the betrayal he embodied wasn’t a knife twisting slowly in my chest.
So I looked down at the papers before me and the cold reflection of fluorescent lights in my coffee cup. I'd fix my gaze on anything but him.
Soon, the votes began.
My hands gripped the edges of the table until my knuckles turned white. Each name called out felt like a hammer striking metal.
And then I was voted out of my position as the CEO and practically out of the board. My father declared it.
Somehow, I had expected it. So it wasn't quite shocking.
Because I had anticipated the betrayal from the board, the alliances that had shifted in the shadows while I had been blinded by grief, rage, and heartbreak.
Still, I couldn’t deny that those words didn't land in my chest like a final blow.
My title—my position, my power, everything I had fought for as Elena Vale—was ripped from me with a casualness that made my stomach lurch.
I couldn’t breathe properly.
The urge to scream, to throw a chair across the room, and to collapse and let the sobs come clawed at my insides but I couldn't afford to fall apart here.
And then, just when I thought the meeting was done. I heard it....
“Introducing the new partner of Vale Corp…”
My blood froze.
A partner?
I had no idea they'd choose Vale Corp's partner, talk more.. having decided already.
Jack Roman.
Announced as Vale Corp’s partner.
Jack?
The news echoed in the room, bouncing off the walls and ricocheting in my skull. I wanted to scream and demand they take it back, to remind them that this was supposed to be my company.
But my voice was caught in my throat.
My hands trembled as I gripped the papers in front of me, twisting them until they crumpled under the pressure.
My mind was a storm of disbelief and fury. How could this happen? How could he—how could they—all of them—betray me so completely?
Jack’s eyes met mine, and for a heartbeat, I thought he might reach for me, or offer some explanation, some defense. But he didn’t.
He simply sat there, calm and collected with a smile etched at the corner of his lips.
No, no, no, Elena. I mentally berated myself not to break.
I swallowed hard, forcing my shaking hands to lay flat on the table. My jaw ached from the tension, my eyes stung from the tears I refused to shed, and every nerve in my body screamed in protest.
But all I did was bit my lip so hard intending to draw blood.
I would not give them the satisfaction of watching me collapse.
Then I clenched my fists under the table.
I met Jack’s eyes one last time.