My Surgeon Husband Demanded a Divorce for His Pregnant Fellow at the Hospital Gala — Until I Discovered My Family Secretly Owns 85% of His Medical Empire
Mark’s enraged shouts echoed through the boardroom, but his words had lost their power. He was a defeated man, his authority crumbling around him. Arthur, frail but resolute, stood by Claire Dubois, his decision final.
My 100% voting control hung in the air, a palpable shift in power. The board members, now fully aware of the depth of Mark’s fraud and my undeniable ownership, looked at him with disdain.
“This is not over!” Mark shrieked, his voice hoarse, his face a mottled red. He grabbed a heavy glass water pitcher, his hand shaking violently, but he slammed it back onto the table without throwing it. His rage was impotent.
He looked around the room, his eyes wild, searching for an escape. He knew his legal position was obliterated. The syndicate deadline was ticking closer, less than an hour away. The public scandal, the plummeting stock… he was cornered.
Suddenly, a desperate glint appeared in his eyes. His gaze landed on the laptop in front of Claire Dubois.
“No, no, no!” he snarled, a new, frantic energy seizing him. He lunged for the laptop, attempting to wrest it from Claire’s grasp.
Claire, quick and decisive, yanked the laptop back. “Dr. Harrington, what do you think you’re doing?!” she demanded, her voice sharp with alarm.
“The emergency capital reserve!” Mark yelled, his fingers flying across the keyboard of his own tablet. “Nine million! I’ll transfer it! Now!”
He was attempting an illegal motion, a final, desperate grab for liquid assets. The hospital’s emergency capital reserve fund, meant for unforeseen crises, was his last resort, his escape hatch. He wanted to drain it into an untraceable account in the Cayman Islands, flee the country, and leave the entire mess behind.
Claire Dubois, however, was already a step ahead. Her fingers flew across her own keyboard, a blur of motion. She understood the gravity of his intent instantly.
A soft click echoed through the room from Claire’s terminal.
“Access denied, Dr. Harrington,” Claire said, her voice cool and professional. She looked at him with an unwavering gaze. “The digital transfer portal has been locked. From this terminal, permanently. You no longer have any authorization.”
Mark froze, his eyes glued to his tablet. A red error message flashed across the screen: “UNAUTHORIZED ACCESS ATTEMPT – ALL FUNCTIONS LOCKED.”
His face twisted in pure, unadulterated fury. The last door had been slammed shut in his face. He was trapped.
He stared at Claire, then at Arthur, then at the horrified faces of the board members. His chest heaved, his breathing ragged. The audacity of his attempt, the blatant disregard for the hospital’s stability, sealed his fate in the eyes of everyone present.
With a guttural cry of frustration, Mark grabbed his expensive leather coat from the back of his chair. He snatched his briefcase from the floor, not caring that a few papers fluttered out. His plan now was simple: physical flight. He would flee the building before federal regulators or process servers could arrive.
He shoved past Chloe, who let out a small yelp of surprise, and bolted toward the boardroom doors. His rapid footsteps echoed in the suddenly silent room. He was running, not walking, desperate to escape the consequences he had so meticulously built for himself.
He was heading for the executive elevator bank, clearly intending to make a swift exit, leaving behind the wreckage of his ambition, his marriage, and his hospital.
More Stories
+ There are no comments
Add yours