Chapter 145 The Boardroom Confrontation
David: POV
A collective murmur rippled through the boardroom. I glanced at Susan beside me, her perfectly manicured nails tapping nervously against her water glass. Her face had gone pale, and I could practically hear her calculating how this would affect our lifestyle.
Charlotte stood there in a navy blue Chanel suit，looking so much like her mother that for a moment, I felt a chill.
The pearls at her ears had belonged to Emily's mother. She'd deliberately chosen those symbols to remind everyone whose blood ran in her veins.
Except it wasn't my blood. The irony almost made me laugh.
The inheritance of Caldwell Industries was entirely legal and reasonable. Charlotte was reclaiming the shares I'd been managing on her behalf since Emily's death. I had no legal grounds to stop her.
And she had that Parker woman—Olivia—standing beside her, holding Charlotte's jacket, playing the perfect assistant. I'd heard about her meteoric rise in the business world last year. She'd caused quite a stir in San Francisco's elite circles, and now she was lending her expertise to Charlotte.
It was clear my little girl had grown wings and was ready to take control of the Caldwell fortune.
I forced my face into a mask of calm. "Of course," I said with practiced nonchalance. "These shares were always meant for Charlotte. She's grown up now, and it's only right that she takes over."
I approached her, but that bodyguard of hers immediately stepped forward, blocking my path. The man's eyes were cold, assessing me as a threat.
"Charlotte," I continued, adopting a fatherly tone, "I always thought you were focused on other things. I didn't realize you had an interest in business management. I'm glad you've finally decided to come back."
I couldn't help adding, with what I hoped looked like sincerity, "Don't worry, sweetheart. Your father and brother will help you every step of the way."
Next to me, I could feel Paul tensing. His fingers were digging into his palms, veins bulging in his wrists.
The meeting proceeded smoothly, much to my dismay. Walter and the other board members welcomed Charlotte warmly, congratulating her as if this were some grand accomplishment rather than a betrayal of the man who'd raised her.
"Emily Caldwell was a force of nature in her day," said Walter, smiling at Charlotte with grandfatherly affection. "Like mother, like daughter. We look forward to seeing what you'll accomplish here."
"Thank you all for your trust," Charlotte replied with poise that irritated me to no end. "I'll work hard to live up to your expectations."
She completely ignored me while I stood there, playing the supportive father. The humiliation burned in my gut.
"Ms. Parker, thank you for your assistance as well," another board member said, nodding respectfully at Olivia.
The woman inclined her head slightly. "I'm simply doing what needs to be done."
As the meeting concluded and board members filed out, I remained behind with Paul. Charlotte stayed put with her lawyer and bodyguard, clearly anticipating confrontation.
Once we were alone, I dropped the façade. "What the hell do you think you're doing, Charlotte?" I demanded, fury finally breaking through my composure.
"Something this significant—you don't even consult me? You go straight to the board? Where do you get off treating your father like this?"
My rage was building, and Paul stepped forward, only to be blocked again by the mountain of muscle Charlotte called security.
"Get out of my way!" Paul shouted, trying to push past him. "Move!"
"Ms. Caldwell?" The bodyguard glanced back, seeking instruction.
Charlotte lifted her gaze, her eyes cold. "Hit him."
Before I could react, the bodyguard's fist connected with Paul's jaw, followed by a punch to his chest that sent him crashing to the floor.
Paul screamed in pain, blood trickling from his mouth, his cries like a wounded animal.
"Charlotte, you've gone too far!" I exploded. The fury inside me reached my skull, but I had nowhere to direct it.
"Charlotte, we need to talk," I said through gritted teeth, barely containing my rage. ‘This girl is going to be the death of me!’
Charlotte turned to look at Olivia, as if seeking guidance.
Olivia, with Charlotte's jacket draped over her arm, nodded slightly. "Ms. Caldwell, we'll wait for you outside."
She stepped back and turned, taking her own security with her.
Charlotte looked nervous for a moment—good, she should be—but when she saw her lawyer Rachel and bodyguard staying put, she regained her composure.
"Get them out too!" I demanded.
Charlotte turned to me, her expression blank. "Then we won't talk."
She started to walk away, her posture resolute.
"Stop right there!" I hadn't been this angry at Charlotte in years. This defiance was unprecedented.
I glanced at Paul, who was slowly getting to his feet, and motioned for him to leave. "Paul, go wait outside."
Paul clutched his chest, blood on his lips, and shot Charlotte a venomous look before limping out and closing the door.
Inside the boardroom, Rachel stood quietly with her briefcase, while the bodyguard remained positioned slightly ahead of Charlotte, constantly vigilant.
This setup infuriated me. Not long ago, this girl would avoid me in hallways, barely speaking above a whisper in my presence. Now she stood before me, assertive and defiant.
Just like her mother. Exactly like Emily—equally infuriating!
I took a deep breath, trying to regain my composure.
"Charlotte," I said, my voice low and dangerous, "if you're determined to make trouble, have you considered your grandfather in the nursing home?"
Charlotte's lips curved into a cold smile. "You haven't been keeping up with the nursing home situation, have you?"
My blood ran cold. I immediately pulled out my phone and called the facility, only to be informed that Charlotte's grandfather had been moved three days ago.
"Why wasn't I notified?" I demanded, my chest heaving with anger. "What are you people being paid for?"
I'd visited the nursing home just a week ago. Now the old man had been secretly moved, and I hadn't received any notification. With Charlotte's grandfather out of my control, I'd lost half my leverage over her.
"You really are something," I spat, gripping my phone tightly. "After all these years, with shareholders changing and the company's operations completely transformed, you think you can just walk in and take your mother's shares? It won't be that easy."
"Mr. Grant," Rachel stepped forward, opening her briefcase. "Legal inheritance rights never expire. While you acted as Charlotte's guardian and managed her assets until she turned eighteen, you've been signing annual management contracts ever since. Charlotte's decision to revoke that management right proves she never abandoned her inheritance claims under the will."
Rachel continued, her voice professional but pointed. "Furthermore, management doesn't mean appropriation of profits. From what Ms. Caldwell tells me, you've never provided accounting for the earnings during your management period. Misappropriation of inheritance benefits hasn't yet reached the twenty-year statute of limitations, so it's still within the litigation window..."
As Rachel continued her legal explanation, I focused on one key point.
"Charlotte, are you planning to sue me?" I asked, my eyes bulging with rage.
Charlotte smiled faintly. "That's certainly an option."
She wasn't backing down. The little bitch had grown a spine.
"I'm your father!" I shouted, losing all pretense of control.
"We can discuss our father-daughter relationship after I've reclaimed all of my mother's assets," Charlotte replied coolly, staring me down. "We're done here. In half an hour, I'll be going to the Caldwell family estate. You're welcome to join me—or not."
With that, she turned to leave, Rachel following closely behind.
My face contorted with rage. "Charlotte, what do you think you're doing? You can't go there! You—"
I lunged forward, but the bodyguard grabbed me and threw me to the ground. By the time I looked up, he was already opening the door for Charlotte.
"Charlotte, you ungrateful child!" I screamed after her. "How dare you lay hands on me! You worthless—"
The door closed, cutting off my words. I remained on the floor, shaking with impotent rage, realizing that for the first time in decades, I was no longer in control.