Chapter 65 Madame CEO

Chapter 65 Madame CEO
The rhythmic clack-clack-clack of my red-bottomed heels against the marble floor was the only sound in the lobby —the sound of a woman who had spent the last seven months turning her heart into a stone.

As I walked, the sea of employees parted. Heads bowed. Whispers died in throats. They didn't see the "scandalous bride" anymore; they saw the woman who had effectively dismantled Elias D'Angelo in forty-eight hours.

I caught my reflection in the glass of the elevator doors. My once waist-length hair was gone, replaced by a sharp, neck-length bob that made my jawline look like a weapon. The oversized black power suit hid the five-month curve of my stomach, though I could feel the life shifting inside me.

Disgusting.

That was the word that lived in my head. It surfaced every morning when I looked at my bump. I hadn't removed the child. I couldn't. Not because I loved the father, but because I refused to let another D'Angelo life be "erased." If this child was a sin, then I would be the one to own it.

The double doors to the boardroom swung open.

Twelve men sat at the table. At the far end sat Kieran.

I didn't spare him a glance. Not even a flicker of the eyes. To look at him was to remember the heat of the altar and the cold of the truth, and I didn't have time for either.

I walked to the head of the table—the seat that used to belong to Kieran—and dropped my black Birkin onto the polished wood with a heavy thud.

"You're late," Kieran's voice drifted from my left. It was raspy, deeper than I remembered, vibrating with a frustration he couldn't hide. "You're ten minutes late. The board has been waiting."

I pulled out my chair, sitting slowly to accommodate the weight of my pregnancy. I adjusted my cuffs, staring at the agenda in front of me as if he were nothing more than a ghost in a suit.

"Ten minutes of their time is a small price to pay for the privilege of working for me," I said, my voice like dry ice. "And unless you've forgotten your new title, Mr. Vice President, you don't tell me how to handle my business. Or my life."

I finally turned my head, giving Kieran a look so clinical it was as if I were examining a specimen under a microscope.

Kieran's jaw tightened, "Aurielle, the investors are looking for stability, not a—"

"It's Madame CEO," I interrupted.  "And if you find my management style... inefficient, I suggest you pack your  desk by noon. I can replace a Vice President with a phone call, Kieran. Don't make me remind you that your presence in this building is an act of my charity, not your right."

"I think Mr. Kieran is right, Madame," one of the older investors stammered, his voice trembling as he dared to challenge me.

I didn't let him finish.

The movement was a blur. I reached into my Birkin, my fingers closing around the cold, textured grip of the suppressed pistol I now carried everywhere. I didn't even stand up. I simply aimed and pulled the trigger.

Phut.

The investor screamed as a bullet shattered the table inches from his hand, grazing his knuckles. Blood sprayed across the white agenda papers. The room went from a murmur to a tomb-like silence as every man at that table looked down at their laps, terrified to even blink.

"This is not how we handle things, Aurielle," Kieran growled, his voice vibrating with a mix of horror and command.

I shifted my aim without a second thought.

Phut.

Kieran groaned, his body jerking back as the bullet caught the meat of his shoulder. He clutched his arm, red seeping through the expensive fabric of his suit, his face etched with a shock so deep it almost made me flinch. Almost.

"This meeting is over," I said, my voice as steady as the hand holding the gun. "Get out. All of you."

Later That Day: The Office Confrontation
I was staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows of my new office when the door burst open. I didn't have to turn around to know it was him.

"Can't you learn how to knock?" I snapped, my back to him.

Before I could react, Kieran was behind me. He didn't care about the wound I'd given him earlier; his grip was iron as he grabbed my arm and forced me to stand, spinning me around to face him.

"What the hell are you doing, Aurielle?" he rasped, his eyes searching mine with a desperation that hurt more than the gun. "I did everything you asked! I signed over the empire. I gave you the keys to the kingdom without a single fight!"

I forced a dry, hollow chuckle. "You signed over what was already mine by birthright, Kieran. You didn't 'give' me anything; I just took my things back

"You couldn't have taken them without my signature," he roared, his face inches from mine. "I did it willingly! Because I thought... I thought it would buy us peace. But you won't let me see Adrien. You won't let me see my son. Why are you doing this?"

A sharp pang of guilt stabbed at my chest, a cold reminder that the woman who loved him was still screaming somewhere deep inside. I glared at him, widening my eyes to blink back the moisture I refused to let him see.

"You want to talk about Adrien?" I whispered, the name of our son feeling like a sin on my tongue. "Every time I look at him, I see the blood we share. Every time I look at you, I remember the taboo."

"Marliese isn't my mother," Kieran blurted out, "I just found out the woman who gave birth to me is alive  I don't know who she is—Elias won't tell me—but she's alive somewhere. We aren't full siblings, Aurielle."

"It doesn't matter, Kieran," I whispered, pulling my arm from his grasp. "Your father is still my father. He is the monster who tried to end me, and you are the heir he chose over me. I won't stop until I've ruined every single D'Angelo for the pain I've endured. Including you."

I didn't wait for his response. I couldn't. If I stayed in that office one second longer, the ice I had spent months freezing around my heart would shatter. I turned on my heel, and walked out, leaving Kieran standing in the center of the wreckage of our lives.

Kieran stared at the door. His shoulder throbbed where the bullet had grazed him, but the physical pain was a dull hum compared to the hollow roar in his chest. He looked down at his hands—the hands that had signed away a kingdom just to buy a piece of her heart. It hadn't been enough.

He knew Aurielle was failing. Under her rule, the D'Angelo empire wasn't just changing; it was bleeding out. She was blinded by a hatred so thick she couldn't see the stock prices plummeting or the vultures circling. She didn't care about the business. She wanted to see the throne burn, even if she was sitting on it when it went up in flames.

We aren't siblings.

The thought was a whisper, a desperate prayer. Marliese had broken; she had admitted that Aurielle was her daughter. But the secret Elias guarded so fiercely—the identity of the woman who had actually birthed Kieran—was the only key left to their salvation.

Kieran walked to the window, watching Aurielle's black sedan pull away from the curb far below. He needed her back. Not as his CEO, but as the woman who used to look at him with a warmth that made him feel human.

"If I find her," he whispered to the empty room. "If I find the woman who gave me life, I find the truth."

But Elias wouldn't have handled the key to a boy who didn't share his blood. Every blue-eyed glance in the mirror told Kieran he was a D'Angelo. But what if the "What If" was the only thing that could save them? What if a DNA test proved that the bloodline wasn't a prison of incest, but something else entirely?

He needed to find her. If she was alive, she had the answers Elias would take to his grave.

Kieran reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over a contact he hadn't called in years—a private investigator who specialized in things that didn't want to be found.

"I need your help."

He ended the call. Aurielle was drowning in her grief, and he was the only one who could pull her out. But first, he had to prove that their love wasn't a crime.

.....

A Hidden Location — Miles away from the D'Angelo Empire

In the corner of the windowless room, a woman slumped against the wall, her breathing ragged. Her skin, once porcelain, was a roadmap of bruises and fresh cuts. She looked at her trembling hands, stained crimson, and closed her eyes, praying for a silence that wouldn't come.

The heavy metal door groaned on its hinges.

Step. Step. Step.

The woman didn't look up. She didn't have the strength left to be afraid.

The visitor crouched down to her level. He reached out and gripped her chin, forcing her head up until her hazy gaze met his cold, uncompromising eyes.

"Do you know what he's doing right now?" the man whispered, "He's tearing the city apart to find the woman who gave him life."

The woman's cracked lips parted, but no sound came out.

"I can't let that happen," the man continued, his grip tightening until she winced. "It's only a matter of time before he finds the thread that leads to this room. And when he does, even the little reputation I have left will be ruined. Everything I've built... gone, because of your existence."

He leaned closer, his breath ghosting over her bruised cheek.

"You knew the truth all these years. You knew Marliese was hiding the girl. You knew she was alive. You betrayed me, and you thought you could escape?"

The man stood up, pulling a suppressed weapon from his pocket. 

"And now," Elias whispered, aiming the barrel at the woman's forehead, "it's time for you to die."