Chapter 153 Heir

Chapter 153 Heir
Lawrence strode into his office, shutting the door behind him with a calculated force that echoed his satisfaction. The gathering of shareholders had gone exactly as planned, and a slow, wicked smile spread across his face. He almost laughed aloud at the sheer perfection of it all. Every move, every word, every carefully placed seed of doubt had taken root.
The contract. Showing it to the chairman had been the masterstroke. The board's anger had been immediate, visceral, and Lawrence had skillfully fanned the flames. He had made it clear that this wasn't just a corporate issue, it was a family matter. Insisting that Sir Levi be called had guaranteed that the matter would no longer be contained within the walls of the boardroom. Power had been brought into play, and Lawrence reveled in knowing exactly how much influence Sir Levi carried.
He leaned back in his chair, allowing himself a rare moment of indulgence. His fingers drummed against the polished mahogany desk. The thrill of seeing the board's fury, watching Ethan's carefully maintained composure crack even slightly, sent a delicious shiver down his spine.
Then his phone rang, cutting through the silence. Lawrence picked it up with an anticipatory grin.
"Vivienne," he said smoothly, voice tinged with triumph.
"Lawrence," Vivienne purred over the line, her tone sharp with curiosity. "How did it go? Did it work?"
Lawrence could almost see her smirk through the phone. He didn't hide his satisfaction. "Perfectly. Ethan's now suspended. The board is in a frenzy, and Sir Levi's involvement... it's already crushing him where it hurts most. Everything went exactly as I intended."
Vivienne's laughter was soft, dangerous. "Good... very good. And... did you remember to make sure Lena took the fall?" she asked.
Lawrence's grin widened, curling into something almost feral. "I did. Right in front of Ethan." He leaned back, recalling the exact moment: Ethan had stopped dead in his tracks when Lawrence's words hit, the subtle flash of realization crossing his face before he continued walking. Lawrence made sure he knew he had been betrayed. The thought alone made Lawrence's chest tighten with exhilaration.
Vivienne's voice was smooth, but her glee was palpable. "Excellent. Well done, Lawrence. Don't forget the next step."
"I haven't forgotten," Lawrence replied firmly, his eyes glinting with malice. "It's all in motion."
The call ended, and Lawrence set the phone down deliberately, savoring the silence that followed. He allowed himself a slow, triumphant stretch, then laughed softly to himself. Finally... that rude, egotistical Ethan was out of the way.
He paced the office, fingers trailing along the edge of the desk, mind racing with the next phase. Every carefully orchestrated insult, every manipulation, every whisper to the shareholders, it had all worked. And now, the path was clear.
Lawrence leaned against the window, staring out over the city, the lights twinkling innocently below, unaware of the storm of schemes swirling above them. He allowed himself one last, satisfied exhale. For the first time in a long while, he felt untouchable, unstoppable... and utterly, completely in control.
His laughter bubbled up again, quiet at first, then louder, filling the office, echoing off the walls like the proclamation of victory. Ethan Sinclair, the golden boy, the untouchable heir, was no longer the obstacle. That chapter was closed. And Lawrence intended to ensure it never reopened.
Lawrence leaned back in his chair, a sly smile tugging at his lips. The office felt smaller now, almost suffocating in the best possible way, the adrenaline of his recent victory still pulsing through him. Without hesitation, he reached for his phone.
He began dialing, numbers memorized, contacts he had cultivated carefully over the years. Each ring was a pulse of power, each connection a tiny domino waiting to fall. When the first reporter picked up, Lawrence didn't waste a single word on pleasantries.
"Hello my name is Lawrence," he said, voice low, calm, and dangerously confident. "I have news you won't believe, but it's coming straight from the source. Ethan Sinclair has been suspended."
A pause. Shock. The reporter's intake of breath was audible even through the line. "Wait... are you serious? Are you sure?"
Lawrence let the silence stretch, letting the weight of the revelation sink in. "I'm serious. Confirmed. And you will report it. Make sure it reaches every blog in Melbourne. Every platform. Every outlet. This is global news. Understood?"
"Yes... yes, absolutely," the reporter stammered, voice tight with disbelief and excitement.
Lawrence hung up, satisfaction curling through him like molten fire. One down, several more to go. He repeated the calls with the same precision, each reporter now trembling with the weight of the story, knowing that ignoring it was impossible when it came straight from the family's inner circle.
He leaned forward, eyes glinting, watching the city through the window. "If the world knows," he muttered to himself, almost as if speaking to Ethan himself, "there will be no saving face. No one to clean this up. Your perfect image, Ethan... gone."
He imagined the headlines already: "Sinclair Scandal: Heir Suspended Amid Contract Leak." "Billionaire's Wife Under Scrutiny After Family Fallout." "Sinclair Empire Shaken: Family Intervention Suspends CEO." Each imagined headline stoked the fire of triumph in his chest.
Lawrence stretched back in his chair, satisfied with the reach of his plan. The suspension was one thing, but the world knowing was another entirely. Suddenly, the stakes were higher, the impact irreversible. Ethan's carefully curated persona, the untouchable, flawless heir, was about to be tainted, and Lawrence was the hand that orchestrated it.
And just as Lawrence had imagined, the moment the first headlines went live, the reaction was instantaneous. Within minutes, the news had ignited a storm across Melbourne's digital landscape. Blogs, financial sites, and social media platforms picked up the story, each one amplifying the scandal further. Notifications pinged on Lawrence's phone almost faster than he could read them, retweets, shares, comments, messages from journalists confirming the story had spread to every corner of the city and beyond.
The carefully curated image of Ethan Sinclair, the untouchable heir, began to crumble under the weight of public scrutiny. Analysts dissected the suspension, speculated about internal conflicts, and questioned the integrity of Sinclair Group. Forums buzzed with gossip, some sympathetic to Ethan, others gleeful at the prospect of the empire's turmoil. Even casual readers who had never followed the company closely were drawn into the frenzy, the story trending across every major platform.
Lawrence watched it all with a cold, calculating satisfaction. The plan had not just worked, it had exceeded his expectations. Every carefully placed word, every subtle hint of betrayal, was now magnified a thousand times over. Lena's role, the whispered accusations, the contract leak, it all made Ethan look vulnerable, flawed, exposed in a way he had never anticipated.
For Lawrence, this was more than a victory; it was a complete dismantling of Ethan's image, a public unmasking. As the digital storm raged on, Lawrence allowed himself a quiet chuckle. The empire might still stand, but the perfect, invincible heir was already crumbling in the eyes of the world.