Chapter Sixty Four

Chapter Sixty Four
Arion McCallen stood before the large mirror in his classic, marble-filled office.
His face appeared resolute, but the look in his eyes betrayed an exhaustion he could no longer hide. He hadn’t slept the night before. Letters from Harriet, the silent maneuvers of the board, and the realization that he couldn’t trust anyone within the inner circle of the company kept his mind constantly turning.

As he slipped on his black jacket, a knock came at the door.
“Come in,” he said without turning.

Hazel entered slowly, her face tense but her posture still professional.
“You wanted me to approach the board members who haven’t taken sides yet. I did.”
Arion turned toward her. “And?”
“Most are still hesitant. But one seems to be wavering—Gregory Thorne.”
Arion scoffed. “Gregory. Of course. The old man who’s lived too long in my father’s shadow.”
Hazel opened the file she carried. “Gregory has a personal investment in one of the hotels set for renovation in Paris. Harriet promised the project to him directly, bypassing the bidding process.”
“A veiled bribe.”
“Yes, and he’s close to accepting it. But he hasn’t signed anything yet.”

Arion walked to his desk and opened a large expansion map of The McCallen Hotels. His finger landed on the Paris project.
“I’ll handle the project presentation myself. Prepare a last-minute pitch deck. We’ll take it to the board meeting this afternoon.”
Hazel nodded quickly.

But before she left, Arion stopped her. “Hazel.”
She turned.
“I know you have doubts about me. But I need you to stay by my side. Not as my assistant, but as someone I trust.”
Hazel was silent for a moment. Then slowly, she said, “Then give me a reason to believe. And I won’t go anywhere.”

That afternoon, the board meeting took place in the eighth-floor conference room—
the same room where Richard McCallen once ruled his company with an iron fist. Now, the head seat was occupied by Arion. To his right sat Harriet, wearing a diplomatically cutting smile.

“Good afternoon,” Arion began calmly. “I called this meeting to address the transfer of ownership in the Paris project, which appears to have become the subject of backroom deals.”
Gregory Thorne squinted. Harriet spoke up at once.
“That project, as everyone knows, is still under review. No final decisions have been made.”
“But a personal promise was,” Arion cut in. “No minutes. No discussion.”

He pressed a button, and the large screen lit up with a transparent renovation plan for the Paris hotel. Financial data, market research results, and profit projections appeared one by one. All of it showed that, if managed properly and free from personal intervention, the project would yield far greater profits for the company.

“If handled according to protocol, every board member benefits according to their share. But if privatized, only one party wins.”

The board members exchanged glances. Gregory shifted uncomfortably.
Arion looked directly at Harriet. “I won’t let McCallen Hotels fall into the hands of personal interests. Anyone involved in underhanded lobbying will face internal audit and possibly legal proceedings.”

Harriet kept her smile. “Very bold of you, Arion. But you’re forgetting one thing.”
“What’s that?”
She pulled a document from her folder and placed it on the table.
“I’ve filed a motion to restructure leadership. With support from four board members and one abstention, we have enough votes to form an oversight committee on all executive decisions.”

Arion clenched his fist. “You’re trying to seize executive control?”
“No. I simply want to ensure you don’t steer this company recklessly.”

Hazel, seated at the back of the room, looked at Arion with concern. She knew Harriet’s move could box Arion into tightly restricted decisions.

Arion stood. “Then let’s take it to an official vote. Who supports forming this oversight committee?”
Four hands rose. Gregory Thorne stared at the table, then... slowly raised his hand.

Arion held his breath.
Only Hazel noticed his jaw tighten. Only she understood that, at that moment, Arion was holding back his fury.

One hour after the meeting, Arion was in the old archive room in the building’s basement.
Dusty, silent, and full of aged files. Hazel followed him there.

“You won’t win this with old data,” she said.
Arion turned. “I’m not looking for victory.”
Hazel frowned. “Then what are you looking for?”
“I’m looking for what my father hid before he died.”

Hazel went quiet.
“My father kept a document of the original agreement with Harriet. But he never showed it to anyone. He said it was his last insurance policy.”

Hazel helped him rummage through the stacks. After several minutes, she found a sealed envelope with Richard McCallen’s handwriting.

Arion carefully tore it open. Inside was a contract outlining the secret division of assets. It clearly stated that Harriet was to serve only as a non-executive overseer—if and only if Arion was unable to fulfill the role of CEO.

“This is the key,” Arion murmured.
Hazel stared at him. “If this leaks to the media...”
“I won’t give it to the media,” Arion slid the document into his jacket. “I’ll hand it to the one person who needs to read it.”
“Who?”
“Gregory Thorne.”

That night, at an exclusive club in Mayfair, Arion sat across from Gregory.
Drink in hand, his tone was casual—but edged with pressure.

“I’m not here to be angry. I just want you to see something you may never have read.”
He handed over a copy of the document.

Gregory read it slowly. When his eyes reached Richard’s signature, he clenched his jaw.
“So Harriet tricked me?”
Arion simply shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. But you’re a wise man. And wise men know when to step back.”

Gregory stared at Arion. “You’re not your father.”
“I know,” Arion replied. “I’m more dangerous.”

Gregory leaned back. “I’ll reposition my stance on the board. But it’ll take time.”
“Take all the time you need. But make sure Harriet knows—she’s not queen of this kingdom.”

The next morning, Gregory’s letter of withdrawal from the oversight committee
was submitted to the board secretary. Hazel was the first to see it—and immediately informed Arion.

He simply nodded. But once the door closed, a smile appeared on his face for the first time that week.

The war wasn’t over. But for the first time, Arion knew—he was no longer fighting it alone.