Chapter 75 Welcome Gift I
Chapter 75 Welcome Gift I
♤SEBASTIAN♤
My jaw tics, and Beauty catches it instantly. A sharp laugh rips from her throat.
She is completely unhinged, her eyes wide as she points the half-empty glass of scotch at my chest, the liquid sloshing against the rim.
“Look at you,” she cocks her head, her voice rising into a mocking pitch.
“The great Sebastian Cross, completely exposed.” She makes an explosive sound with her mouth.
“Tell me, brother, what is so special about her? What is so damn important about a woman our father picked out of nowhere? How did Jonathan manage to crack your unbreakable armor using her as leverage? Tell me, is there some dark little secret about Yasmin that I’m missing?”
I look directly into her bloodshot eyes, my expression hard as stone.
I can feel the violent urge to wrap my hands around her throat for even uttering Yasmin’s name, but I keep my hands buried deep inside my pockets.
“You are drunk, Beauty,” I growl. “Get out of my way.”
“Oh, of course I am drunk!” She lets out another manic laugh, stumbling a half-step back but keeping her eyes locked on mine.
“I know I’m drunk, but I know exactly what I’m doing. I know exactly what I’m saying to you right now.”
“No, you don’t,” I counter, stepping forward to force her back.
“You are talking pure rubbish. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a meeting to attend. Noah, get this savage out of my sight.”
Noah steps forward quickly, his body blocking Beauty’s line of sight to me. He holds his hands up in a polite but firm barrier, forcing her to step back toward the wall.
I storm past her down the corridor, but when I hear a sudden scuffle behind me, I glance back over my shoulder.
Beauty has slumped against Noah’s chest, her balance completely gone from the alcohol.
Noah stiffens as he tries to gently push her dead weight away from him.
Before the situation can get any worse, Beauty’s personal assistant, a lanky French guy whose name always slips my mind, scurries out from a side alcove.
He catches her by the shoulders, murmuring panicked apologies as he starts pulling her back toward the elevators.
But Beauty isn’t done. As she is dragged away, she tilts her head over her assistant’s shoulder and shouts down the hallway.
“Oh, big brother! I forgot to mention!”
I pause mid-step, my hand resting on the handle of the boardroom door.
I don’t turn around, but I listen.
“I hope you truly enjoy the welcome gift I prepared for you!” she shrieks, followed by another loud burst of laughter before the elevator doors slide open and swallow her voice whole.
I suck in a deep breath, my chest rising and falling heavily.
Welcome gift.
I know how Beauty operates. She is petty, vindictive, and desperate to keep her status, but right now, I don’t have the mental energy to untangle her riddles. I have a much bigger monster to face on the other side of this door.
I push the handle down, throw the door open, and step into the main boardroom of Cross Holdings.
The room is massive, lined with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Chicago skyline. Sitting at the head of the long conference table is Jonathan himself.
He looks immaculate in that burgundy Brioni suit, his gray hair perfectly styled to the back.
Flanking him on either side are eight of the oldest and most powerful board members in the company, men who have been profiting from Cross money for decades.
Noah remains outside in the hallway. This is a closed-door executive session; outsiders, even personal assistants, are strictly barred from entering.
The door clicks shut behind me, sealing me inside the lion’s den.
“Ah, Sebastian,” Jonathan says, spreading his hands wide with a warm smile that makes my stomach churn with disgust.
“The board was just reviewing the legal framework for your transition. Please, take your rightful seat.”
He motions to the empty leather chair directly opposite him at the other end of the table. I walk over and pull the chair back.
I don’t bother with the usual fake corporate smile, and neither do I offer a handshake to any of the board members who are watching me like vultures.
I sit down, lean back, and cross one leg over the other, staring directly at my father.
Even though I am sitting here, even though I officially signed the heir documents yesterday to secure Yasmin’s safety, the hatred I have for this man hasn’t changed one bit.
If anything, it has only hardened into something cold and permanent.
“Let’s skip the pleasantries, Jonathan,” I say, my voice cutting through the tense atmosphere of the room, blunt and completely devoid of respect.
“I didn’t come here to play the dutiful son for your board. Let’s get the handover over with.”
A few of the older board members shift uncomfortably in their seats, exchanging worried glances. Jonathan’s smile tightens at the edges, a flash of amusement sparkling in his eyes.
A normal father should be angry, right?
But that’s the difference between Jonathan and every other father out there. He’s not normal.
A psycho like him finds it amusing because he believes the version of me who speaks bluntly and rudely is better than all the people around him who try to sweet-talk him and stroke his already gigantic ego.
That’s where my siblings keep failing too. Jonathan will never hand his empire to deceitful ass-kissers, as he calls them.
“Always so blunt, Sebastian,” Jonathan notes, turning to the senior board secretary sitting to his right.
“Go ahead and brief the heir on the current department vacancy.”
The secretary, an older man with thick glasses, opens a leather binder.
“Mr. Cross, as of six-thirty this morning, Miss Beauty Cross has been officially relieved of her duties due to an internal audit investigation.”
He looks up from the file briefly before continuing.
“The compliance committee discovered discrepancies in the global logistics sector under her supervision. Over forty million dollars in company funds were mismanaged during the last fiscal quarter, resulting in severe financial strain on our shipping divisions.”
I listen to the corporate jargon, my eyes never leaving Jonathan’s .
He used his own daughter’s financial misconduct as a clean excuse to discard her the moment he needed a position to bait me with.
He is ruthless. I’ll give him that.