Chapter 147 Chapter 147
Cassandra sat at her desk and stared at the company logo on the wall. The room was quiet. Morning light fell across her fingers. Her coffee went cold. She felt hollow and angry at the same time.
How do you take a company from a man who built it with his hands? she asked herself. All the plans in her head felt small when she looked at the real thing — the boardroom, the lawyers, the names on paper. Power lived there. Not in pretty dresses or sweet words.
She stood and walked to the window. Cars moved below like small beetles. People were living their normal lives. She tasted the truth: she had no clear map. She had to make one.
She took a pen and a new notebook. The page was white and scared. Slowly she wrote the first word: Force. The word looked loud on the paper.
Then she wrote questions, simple and hard.
Who owns the shares?
Who can vote with me?
What legal moves break the trust?
Where is the paper trail?
Who will help me quietly?
She tapped the pen and closed her eyes. Memories came fast. Nathaniel’s face when he refused her. The look of trust he gave someone else. That look burned her more than any plan.
The house was full of people who obeyed her voice. The company was full of people who obeyed his. She needed people who could walk in both worlds. She needed proof. She needed money. She needed holes in the law.
Her phone buzzed. It was Vanessa. She answered quickly, hiding the notebook.
“Vanessa,” she said. “I need you. I don’t know how to do this.”
Vanessa’s voice was sharp and quick. “Do what, Cass? Take the company? You already have moves. Why are you asking?”
“Because the moves are small,” Cassandra said. “They will not win the whole house. I need a way to force a change. I need to push him out of power — or at least make him weak enough to sign what I want.”
Vanessa hummed. “There are ways. We can buy shares. We can scare the board. We can make him look bad. We can call for audits. We can start a rumor that he’s losing control.”
Cassandra felt a thin hope. “But how do I get shares without too many eyes? Who will sell? Who will help me vote?”
Vanessa was quiet a moment. “People sell when frightened. We make the company look shaky. Then a friendly investor buys quietly. We plant the right people. Or we get proxy votes. There are lawyers who do small tricks with trusts. I know one.”
Cassandra set the pen down and rubbed her face. “Trusts are messy. Lawyers cost money. I thought the consultant would be enough. He is inside now. He likes Nathaniel’s ears. He can whisper to the board.”
“Yes,” Vanessa said. “Use the consultant. Make him play both sides. He can plant a paper that says Nathaniel needs to step back. He can seed the auditor with questions. If the board panic, you can ask to sit in. You then use the meeting to move money, to move votes.”
Cassandra closed her eyes. The picture was starting to show itself. A slow, cold machine. She liked thinking in machines. Machines obey rules. People do not.
“But what if Nathaniel reads the papers? What if he smells a trap and fights back?” she asked.
“Then make it messy for him,” Vanessa said. “Scare him. Make the headlines. Make a small scandal that needs him to be away fixing it. During that time you pull the strings.”
Cassandra smiled, but it was small and tired. “A scandal. I can do that. Vanessa, can you find someone who makes a story look true? A leak here, a fake invoice there.”
Vanessa agreed fast. “I’ll call my PR friend. We make a noise. Not too loud — just loud enough for the board to look up.”
Cassandra wrote the next line on the notebook: phase one: rumour / PR. She felt something like control again.
They spoke more. Vanessa suggested another piece. “Get the lawyer on standby to file a motion for temporary oversight if the board sees mismanagement. Make a whistle-blower story. Use the consultant to highlight ‘irregularities.’ If the board votes to protect the assets, you swoop in as a trusted family rep.”
Cassandra rubbed her thumb over the words. “Whistle-blower,” she repeated. The word tasted dangerous and sweet.
“But what about the divorce papers?” she asked, voice low. “She didn’t sign them. If she shows up with claims, everything collapses. He might be forced to do the right thing. If she claims the child, custody—”
Vanessa cut in, sharp. “Do not let Savannah return. Not now. If she returns legally, you will be crushed. You need to lock all doors. Keep the signature issue buried. That’s why the consultant must move fast. We do not need courts if the board surrenders first.”
Cassandra breathed. She had not thought of the court scare. The court would not be kind. She needed the house to change hands before law could act.
She wrote another line: phase two: board vote / proxy. Then she crossed it and wrote again: phase two: scare board => request oversight => me as rep.
She looked at the page. It felt like a map, raw and jagged.
Then a different fear arrived — the personal one. If she forced things, people would lose jobs. Families would suffer. Would she be the kind of woman who drags a company into ruin for her pride?
She did not like the pity that reached her at that thought. She reminded herself of all the nights of being nothing, of the way people stepped on her. “They will not step on me again,” she whispered.
Her phone buzzed with a message from the consultant. He wrote, Board wants to meet next week. I can present a review. I’ll need your approval to show certain numbers.
Cassandra’s heart jumped. The consultant had moved. She felt a flare of dark joy. “Yes,” she typed back. “Show the numbers. Make it urgent.”
Then she shut her phone and sat back. The plan was moving from thought to machine. But pieces were missing. Legal risk. Proof. The board’s loyalty.
She needed someone with shares. She remembered a quiet name — an old investor who owned a small stake in the company, a man who hated Nathaniel’s style. He could be useful if he agreed to vote her way.
She made a list: investor calls, PR leak, consultant presentation, lawyer on standby, proxy votes bought, friendly board members identified.
She felt the weight of all the tasks. The list looked long. Her chest tightened. She liked power, but not the heavy work of making men move.
A knock on the door. Rose stood there with a small tray. Her face was careful. “Ma’am, breakfast,” she said.
Cassandra waved her in. “Leave it on the table,” she said, voice soft. Rose obeyed and left quickly.
Cassandra looked at the tray and then at the notebook. Her hands moved, writing down small names she’d been ignoring. Old school friends. A lawyer she had once helped at a party. Vanessa’s PR friend. The consultant. The investor.
She picked up the phone and called the investor. Her voice was calm, smooth like silk. “Good morning, Mr. Adebayo. I hope I’m not bothering. I need advice.”
He answered with old warmth. “Cassandra. Long time. Of course. What is it?”
She did not tell him everything. She only planted a seed. “The company has been unstable. I worry about the value. I wonder if you have considered your position. We might discuss a small sale.”
He paused. “Why now?”
“Just… timing,” she said. “I have a friend preparing a review. If you listen to it, you may want to move.”
He agreed to meet next week. She smiled as she ended the call. The first bird had hatched in the egg.
Her plan felt rough but alive. Each small call pushed the map forward. Each friend she coaxed in made the route clearer.
But doubt came back like a cold wind. What if Nathaniel smelled the trap? What if Savannah found out? What if the consultant turned traitor? What if Vanessa changed her mind?
Her phone buzzed again. A message from Vanessa: You ready? Simple. Sharp.
Cassandra stared at the screen. She breathed, then typed: Yes. Start the noise. Do it small. No police. No harm. Make him leave the house tonight if possible.
She hit send. Her finger shook. This was the moment. The plan would start to walk without her. She felt both fear and rush.
She closed the notebook. The page was full of marks and arrows. It looked like a map someone had drawn while the sea moved.
She stood, walked to the window, and watched the street. People passed by, ordinary as ever. Her heart beat fast. She whispered to herself, “I will take it. I will have it all.”
Then she sat back at her desk and reached for the phone again. She dialed the consultant’s number.
His voice answered on the second ring. “Yes, Cassandra?” Calm. Professional.
She said simply, “Show the numbers. Make them panic.”
He paused a heartbeat. “I will. Prepare the board meeting. I’ll do my part.”
She closed her eyes and let out a long breath. The first move was set.
But even as she smiled, a small voice inside her head asked the one question she did not want to hear: what happens when you win and the price is everything you once loved?
She pushed the question away. For now she needed action. For now she needed power.
The phone hummed softly on the desk. Outside, the city went on. Inside, Cassandra’s map began to burn.