Chapter 106

CHAPTER 106

ANOTHER FANTASTIC DAY IN THE LIFE OF A BILLIONAIRE

ALEXANDER

Again, whoever said being rich brings all the peace you need hasn't been punched into the chair of a FUCKING CEO!

I woke to chaos.

My phone has been buzzing for hours and I was too deep in dream land to hear it. After finally collapsing into bed sometime after midnight, my mind still spinning from Isabella's lips and everything that happened in that hospital room. Sleep came like a hammer, hitting me heavily and with no kindness whatsoever.

Now, light streamed through the curtains a little bit too bright for my sensitive eyes. I reached for my phone, swiping it unlock with sleepy eyes.

Fourty seven messages.

Twelve missed calls.

And at least five emails.

My eyes snapped open immediately without needing any permission from my brain.

The first email was from Bernard: Call me immediately. Been trying to call you but you're not picking. There's a problem.

The second was from a board member: We need an emergency neeting. It seems like you're now incapable of heading this company and we can't keep putting our shares at risk.

The third was from a journalist I didn't recognize: Mr. Moreau, I'm writing a piece on the foundation's recent troubles. Would you care to comment on the allegations of mismanagement?

I sat up immediately, ignoring the way the room spun from the weight of whatever the fuck was happening.

I opened the news articles that Bernard attached to his email, my eyes going through each and every heading.

Moreau Foundation Stock Plummets Amid Leadership Concerns

Are the videos real? Or is that really the Alexander Moreau we know?

Investors Lose Confidence After Charitable Filing Scandal

Is Alexander Moreau's Empire Crumbling?

What fucking video? What the hell is all these!?!

I kept reading the articles and each one was just worse than the last. The comments were not even a world of roses. Each one carried speculations and carefully worded accusations.

I was completely lost.

Running my hand through my hair, I threw my phone on the bed and pushed off my bed, heading into the shower.

The board meeting was called for nine.

I arrived at the foundation's headquarters at eight-forty-seven, my suit wrinkled, my eyes bloodshot. Bernard met me in the lobby, his face pale.

"We have a problem," he said.

"I know."

"Not just the stock, there's a coordinated attack. Negative articles, anonymous tips to regulators, pressure on major donors to pull funding." He lowered his voice. "Someone is trying to destroy you, Alexander."

I looked at him. "I know who."

His eyebrows rose. "Who?"

“My fucking ex wifey. Who else!”

The faces around the table were grim. Some wouldn't meet my eyes while others stared with barely concealed hostility.

"Mr. Moreau," the chairwoman began, "we've called this emergency session to discuss the foundation's and your company’s deteriorating public standing and the significant drop in stock value. Investors are panicking and donors are reconsidering their commitments. We need answers."

I sat at the head of the table. "I'm aware of the situation."

"Are you?" Another board member, a man who had never liked me, leaned forward. "Because it seems you've been distracted. Late nights. Personal drama. Your ex-wife being back in the picture. And now this—" He gestured to the newspapers spread across the table. "This chaos."

I held his gaze. "The foundation AND the company will survive."

"Will it?" The chairwoman's voice was cold. "We've lost twelve percent of our value in twenty-four hours. Donors are calling me directly, asking if they should pull their support, and the press—" She shook her head. "The press is having a fucking field day."

I leaned back. "Then we fight back."

"How?" The hostile board member laughed. "You don't even know who's behind this."

"I do."

The room went silent.

“Who is it?” The chairwoman asked and I gnashed my jaw.

“You don't have to worry about anything,” I sidetracked. “I'll handle everything.”

"What's your plan?"

Fuck! I didn't have one. I mean, how am I supposed to come up with solution to a problem I just woke up to?

"I'll handle it," I said.

The meeting dragged on for another hour. They threw threats, ultimatums and a vote of no confidence that failed, but only barely. By the time I walked out, my hands were shaking. From anger.

I stayed back, trying to work the problem and shut the media. I succeeded, but about 55%. By afternoon, I was out of the office.

I went straight home with a resounding thought in my head.

The beach house was warm, a complete contrast to the way I was feeling at the moment. I walked through the front door, past the living room and right into the kitchen without acknowledging anyone or stopping.

Elise was by the refrigerator, a jar of orange juice in hand. And by some weird miracle, she heard me walk in despite having her back to the door.

"Rough day?" She asked in a smooth mocking voice.

Oh this bitch!!

She turned to look at me, her eyebrows raised and lips raised into a smirk.

"I saw the news," she said. "Your stocks are dropping and the board is in chaos. I hate that my shares are hurt too but seeing that look on your face is worth it. It's almost like someone planned it." She tilted her head. "You look terrible, by the way."

I moved before I could think. My hand closed around her throat, wrapping tight enough to cause her to gag as the jar of orange juice slipped from her hand, shattering as it hit the floor.

Her eyes widened as her hands grabbed my wrist.

"What are you doing?" She struggled in a breathless voice.

"You know exactly what you're doing." My voice came out low and cold. "You've been scheming since the moment you walked back into my life. The leaks. The press. The board!! This is your doing!!"

"You ha–ve no pr–oof. W–hy would I d–o tha–t when my sh–ares wou–ld be a–ff–ected too?"

"Keep away from me, Elise!"

"Or what?" she whispered. "You'll ki–ll me in fro–nt of your daughter j–jst like you did yo–ur bestfriend?"

A clattering sound rang in my ears and when I turned, I saw a frozen Camille.