Chapter 184

Chapter 184
Harper

I stood by the window, watching as the last group of reporters finally left the chapel at the Whitaker estate. Rowan Whitaker's "death" dominated the business section headlines. My phone vibrated with a brief message from Ethan: [Board meeting convened. Blake leading.]

"It's starting," I murmured to Vivien, who stood beside me. "Just as we predicted."

Vivien nodded, handing me a cup of coffee. "How long did Blake wait before making his move?"

"He didn't," I sipped the bitter liquid, matching my mood perfectly. "Greed never rests."

"Do you think Nancy is in on it?" Vivien asked, leaning against the windowsill.

I stared at the black liquid in my cup and said, “If it were before, Nancy would have done anything to keep me away from Rowan. But things are different now. We’re on the same side.”

"Through Henry," Vivien concluded.

"A child he can manipulate," I agreed, setting down my coffee cup. "A pawn in his corporate chess game."

Blake couldn't wait. Rowan's "body" hadn't even been placed in the family mausoleum yet, and he was already plotting to take control of Whitaker Holdings. I thought about Owen's latest update from last night—Rowan's condition had stabilized, but we needed to maintain the charade. We had time, but not much.

"Are you sure about this?" Vivien asked, concern threading her voice. "It's dangerous."

I set down my coffee cup and straightened the collar of my black suit. "Every trap needs bait. Blake needs to see us panicked and distracted."

"And if he doesn't take the bait?" Vivien pressed.

"Then we move to Plan B," I said firmly. "But he will. From the collapse of Sinclair Technologies to my father's 'accident' to Rowan's 'death,' all evidence points to one man. Blake is meticulous, but his arrogance makes him predictable."

Vivien squeezed my hand. "Just remember—you're not alone in this anymore."

I squeezed back, drawing strength from her support. "Let's watch the first act unfold."

---

The atmosphere in the top-floor conference room of Whitaker Tower was frigid. Through the hidden camera Ethan had installed, I watched board members taking their seats. Michael Blake wore a black suit, his expression appropriately mournful, but those eyes—calculating, predatory—betrayed his true intentions.

"Thank you all for coming during this difficult time," Blake's voice came through the monitor, deliberately heavy. "Rowan's passing is a devastating blow to us all, especially his family."

He scanned the room, his gaze briefly resting on each director's face. "But business must continue, particularly for an enterprise like Whitaker Holdings. For the company's stability and future, we must act swiftly."

Several directors nodded in agreement—exactly the reaction Blake wanted.

"Therefore," Blake continued, "I propose that Henry be recognized as Rowan's legitimate heir, with me serving as temporary guardian and corporate overseer until Henry comes of age."

On the monitor, Serena began her performance. She displayed shock and discomfort: "Henry is just a child! How can you use him this way?"

"This isn't about using him, Ms. Vaughn," Blake responded with practiced patience. "This is about protecting what's rightfully his—and safeguarding Rowan's legacy."

I had to admire Serena's acting—if I hadn't known this was a pre-planned reaction, I might have believed she truly opposed the idea.

Wilson, a senior corporate law expert, cleared his throat. "We need to confirm Henry's legal right to inheritance. To my knowledge, Rowan never publicly acknowledged this child."

"A valid concern, Gerald," Blake responded smoothly.

He retrieved documents from his briefcase. "I anticipated this question. Here are DNA test results and Rowan's private correspondence confirming Henry's identity."

He passed the documents around, then lowered his voice as if sharing an unpleasant secret: "There's another matter that requires our attention. I'm concerned that Harper Sinclair may use this time to divert company assets. Her troubled marriage to Rowan is well-documented."

Director Thompson frowned. "What evidence do we have of this?"

"Her meeting with Mason Hughes yesterday," Blake replied without missing a beat. "A former Sinclair Technologies executive suddenly reappears, meeting privately with Harper days after Rowan's death? The timing is suspicious at best."

The directors exchanged glances, some nodding subtly. Blake was establishing his narrative, and the directors were falling under his control step by step.

"And what about the children?" asked Jennifer Liu, the youngest director. "Samuel and Grace? They seem quite attached to Henry."

Blake waved a dismissive hand. "A temporary arrangement, I'm sure. Ms. Sinclair will likely wish to take them back to Switzerland soon enough. Their presence here was... convenient timing."

I felt my jaw tighten at his implication. Vivien placed a steadying hand on my shoulder.

"Remember the plan," she whispered. "This is exactly what we wanted—to see his moves."

Vivien closed the tablet. "That's enough. We've confirmed Blake's first move."

I nodded, picking up my phone. "Time to execute our plan." I dialed Ethan's number. "Set up the meeting with Nancy. Make sure there are witnesses."

---

At three o'clock, I stood in the grand foyer of Whitaker Manor, engaged in a carefully choreographed "conflict" with Nancy Whitaker. Two security guards watched nervously from a distance—exactly as planned.

Nancy descended the curved staircase like a queen, her silver hair perfectly styled, pearls gleaming at her throat. Her eyes narrowed when she saw me.

"You have no business here anymore," she stated coldly. "This is a time for family."

I stepped forward, making sure my voice carried. "As Rowan's wife, I have the right to know about the estate arrangements!"