Chapter 100
DAMIAN’S POV
An hour later the Rolls glided into the private underground garage of DT Tech’s Texas headquarters in Austin.
Martin killed the engine beside the glass elevator bay and glanced at me in the rear-view.
I caught my own reflection in the tinted window and almost didn’t recognize the man staring back.
On the outside I looked like the billionaire CEO the world expected. But Inside I’m still the drunk on the hotel floor begging into a dead phone.
At least I didn’t smell like a distillery anymore.
I stepped out, my Louboutin Oxfords clicking sharply against the floor, and that was when I saw them: Elis climbing out of his matte-black G-Wagon two spots over, and right behind him the devil herself.
Evelyn.
Looking dangerous in a bloody red Chanel suit with her hair twisted into that perfect chignon she wore whenever she was about to ruin someone’s life.
My stomach knotted so hard I could taste bile.
What the hell is she doing here?
Dad’s warning echoed in my head: Be careful of Elis…
Could this be what Dad was warning me about?
No, that couldn’t be.
She probably had some shareholder business. Still, I hated seeing her near my company, near my business.
It made my skin crawl.
I swallowed the irritation, squared my shoulders, and strode toward the private elevator, leaving Martin with the car.
Evelyn’s perfume hit me first, something expensive and venomous, and I had to clench my jaw to keep from gagging.
The three of us reached the brushed-steel doors at the same time.
Elis stepped back, letting me enter first like I was a stranger.
That small gesture hurt worse than a punch.
“Elis,” I said quietly, my voice rough from five days of no sleep and too much rum.
He didn’t blink or spare me a glance.
He Just stared at the wall behind us like it held the secrets of the universe.
My stomach twisted.
Even you ain’t want to talk to me… figures.
The doors slid open and I walked in alone.
The thirty-second ride to the forty-seventh floor felt like a lifetime.
When the doors opened again I was greeted by the familiar scent of money.
The corridor to the boardroom was lined with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Austin’s skyline.
The double doors were already open. Inside, the long obsidian table was surrounded by five high-backed leather chairs on each side.
The three board members were already seated and waiting.
These were DT Tech’s major investors, the power players who held sway over millions in shares.
I stepped in, keeping my gaze forward.
Elis followed silently, Evelyn gliding in after him like she owned the place.
She winked at me, then gave me that devilish smile, and I had to look away.
I remained standing for a moment, let the silence stretch, then lowered myself into the chair at the opposite end.
During meetings like this there was no hierarchy in seating. Everyone sat wherever they wanted. It ensured decisions were about the company, not about who was sitting at the top.
Nobody spoke until Elis cleared his throat and began.
“Thank you all for coming on such short notice. The purpose of this emergency session is twofold. First, to formally welcome my mother, Ms. Evelyn Moore, as a new shareholder.”
He gestured toward her like he was unveiling a painting.
I rolled my eyes.
“She has acquired a controlling block of the family trust shares.”
A round of soft, polite applause rippled around the table.
I didn’t move my hands. I just glared at Evelyn, who met my eyes and gave me that slow, serpentine smile that always made my blood boil.
Fucking bitch.
The leader and oldest member of the board, and the one with the largest stake, cleared his throat.
All eyes turned to him.
Andrew Sphere. Sixty-five, silver hair slicked back, with a net worth north of eight billion.
He owned half the commercial real estate in Dallas.
He had been at this table for five years, ever since Sphere Capital bought fifteen percent during Series C.
Andrew tapped a Montblanc pen against the glass agenda in front of him.
“Welcome, Ms. Moore. Now, to the second, and far more pressing, item.” His voice was deep and bourbon-smooth, like a mafia don.
“It has come to the attention of the board that DT Tech might be facing a crisis soon.”
Murmurs swept the table. I leaned forward, frowning.
“What do you mean, a crisis? As CEO, how do I not know there’s a crisis going on in my company?”
Sandra Mayor, another board member, scoffed.
“As CEO, when was the last time you actually managed operations?”
I flinched at the intensity in her voice.
Why does she sound so pissed, like I knocked up her teen daughter?
Scary shit.
I adjusted the lapel of my suit as I straightened my back.
“Chill, Mayor. It isn’t that deep.”
“It is that deep, Mr. Thorne,” she fired back.
Oh no. Not that tone.
Did something happen lately that I wasn’t aware of?
Sandra leaned forward, her red nails drumming the table gently.
“Do you know the current burn rate? runway after the Future Living launch? Last month’s gross revenue?”
Heat crawled up my neck and I adjusted my tie, feeling the silk slip under my sweaty fingers.
“Of course I know the numbers bu—”
“Then enlighten us,” she said, arching one perfectly sculpted brow.
I opened my mouth, closed it, then opened it again.
I cracked my fingers, trying to recall the numbers.
Elis had briefed me a week ago, but right now my mind was fog and heartbreak and five sleepless nights.
Shit.
“I… think I forgot,” I admitted, swallowing hard.
“You forgot?” Elis said, adjusting his tie.
“Last year’s gross revenue across all U.S. branches: Texas, fifty million; Washington, thirty-eight million.”
He rattled off the numbers and finished with, “Overall growth, sixty-seven percent.”
The table erupted with applause for him.
I felt small, deflated, but forced a laugh.
“Good job, Elis. You’ve always had a knack with numbers. Let’s move past that. What exactly is this crisis?”
Andrew leaned back, legs crossed, and arms folded over his chest.
“Mr. Thorne, from recent reports, it seems the crisis stemmed from your actions.”
“I don’t... understand,” I choked out. “What are you talking about?”
“It has come to the board’s attention that you have been irresponsible, Mr. Damien. Additionally, family disputes—your personal life—were creating instability. This impacted investor confidence and the company’s overall strategic growth.”
“So you’re saying…” My voice tightened. “That I’m incapable of handling this company?”
“Precisely. The board has lost confidence in your ability to steer the ship, Mr. Thorne.”
A sudden chill raced down my spine, and a hard lump formed in my throat. I swallowed it down, my heart pounding as my fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
God, let it not be what I’m thinking.
God, please.
“Therefore, effective immediately,” Andrew continued, “the board is relieving you of all executive authority. Operations will be overseen by Chief Operating Officer Elis Thorne, who will serve as Interim Chief Executive Officer until further notice.”