Chapter Sixty

Chapter Sixty
It was late at night when Arion stood by the glass window of his apartment, gazing at the blanket of city lights across London. The wine glass in his hand had long lost its appeal. Behind him, Hazel sat on the living room chair, staring at a tablet screen that displayed the transaction history of McCallen Hotels over the past two years.

“There’s something strange with the Dubai branch account,” Hazel murmured. “Internal transfers from entities that were never reported in the audits.”

Arion turned. “That’s not a project I approved.”

“That’s why I said it’s suspicious,” she said, handing over the tablet. “Look at the signatory.”

Arion stepped closer and squinted. His digital signature.

“That’s not my signature,” he said flatly.

Hazel looked at him. “But the system treats it as if it were.”

Suddenly, everything became clearer. He wasn’t just removed from the company—his name was being sacrificed. As the scapegoat.

“If this leaks to the media, they’ll accuse me of corruption,” he hissed.

Hazel nodded. “That’s why they were in such a hurry to get rid of you. Harriet wants to control the narrative.”

Arion took a deep breath, then looked at Hazel. “We need access to the company’s main server.”

“It’s heavily guarded. But…” Hazel gave a small smile, “I know someone in the IT team. The one you saved from being laid off. He’s still loyal to you.”

Arion walked to the desk and picked up his phone. “We start tonight.”

Two days later, Arion sat in a hidden room in the basement of McCallen Hotels' headquarters. Beside him, a young man—Darren—was decoding the system with deft fingers.

“If my hunch is correct,” Darren murmured, “they didn’t just forge signatures. They’ve been transferring funds from a shell company in the Cayman Islands.”

Hazel stood behind them, arms crossed. “Who’s the recipient?”

Darren typed rapidly, then frowned. “This is strange... most of the funds went to an account belonging to a company called Ravendale Group. But it’s not part of the McCallen network.”

“Find out who owns it,” Arion ordered.

A few seconds later, the screen displayed the name: Harriet McCallen.

Arion let out a bitter laugh. “She’s not just after power. She’s bleeding the family dry.”

Hazel looked at Arion. “We’ve got enough evidence to bring her down. But you realize the consequences, don’t you? This means open war. With Harriet. With your father.”

Arion stared at the screen. “They declared war first.”

That afternoon, Arion arranged an emergency meeting with three board members known for their neutrality. They met in a private room of an old business club in Mayfair.

“This isn’t official,” Arion began, “but you need to know the company is being led to ruin by someone who was never supposed to hold power.”

One of them, a middle-aged woman named Eloise Granger, raised an eyebrow. “And you claim to have proof?”

Arion laid down printed documents and the tablet on the table. They began reading—he watched every reaction. Silence. Shock. Anger.

Eloise closed the documents. “If this is true, then Harriet has committed a serious breach of shareholder trust.”

“And she’s been aided by Richard McCallen,” Arion added. “My father.”

A man named Salim Qadir—another board member—shook his head. “This company is built on reputation. If this leaks…”

“I don’t intend to destroy McCallen Hotels,” Arion cut in. “But I will purge its poison.”

Eloise looked at him sharply. “Are you ready to return to the executive chair?”

Arion stared back. “I never left.”

That night, as a light drizzle fell over London, an anonymous email was sent to all board members and external auditors: a full confidential report detailing Harriet McCallen’s financial scheme, complete with attachments and digital verification. It didn’t take long for the news to spread.

And just as Arion had expected, the next morning Harriet called an emergency meeting. But this time, the situation was different.

The boardroom was heavy with tension. Harriet stood, pale-faced, while the board members stared at her with sharp expressions. Eloise sat at the end of the table, opening the meeting with a calm but firm tone.

“Mrs. Harriet, would you care to explain the transactions involving Ravendale Group?”

Harriet looked left and right, searching for support, but no one spoke. Even Richard, seated in the back, looked at her without emotion.

“I… I was just following Richard’s directives,” she said at last.

All eyes turned to Richard McCallen.

“What directives?” Eloise asked.

Richard stood slowly. “I know nothing about Ravendale. I granted Harriet executive authority, but I never approved any fund diversions.”

Arion rose from his chair, stepping forward. “In other words, Harriet has abused her power.”

The room froze.

Eloise said, “We will conduct a vote in two days to determine whether Harriet should remain in the management structure.”

Harriet gritted her teeth. “You don’t know who you’re up against!”

“Oh, we do,” Arion said. “And you’re not a threat.”

As everyone exited the room, Arion walked past his father. Richard stopped him with a single cold sentence:

“You’ll never have my approval.”

Arion looked at his father—a look that no longer sought recognition. “I never needed it.”