Chapter 233: House Divided

Chapter 233: Chapter 233: House Divided

The executive elevator descended from the 50th floor in near-total silence.

Inside the glass cab, Jake Rivers stood with his hands tucked loosely into his trousers pockets, gazing out over the sprawling financial district below. Beside him, Samuel Carter adjusted his tie in the reflective paneling, while Alice quickly logged the executed stock transfer into Golden Investments’ primary ledger on her tablet.

"The official filings have already hit the regulatory portal," Alice said, her voice crisp as the digital confirmation chimed. "As of two-fifteen PM, Golden Investments’ fifteen percent voting share in Newman Enterprise Group is public record. Shares of Newman Enterprise spiked three-point-four percent the moment Meridian Group released the steel shipments."

"Market confidence restored," Samuel noted with a dry, sharp smile. "Though I doubt Richard Newman is feeling particularly triumphant right now."

Jake didn’t shift his gaze from the skyline. "Richard preserved his title, but he lost his armor. Troy won’t stop here, and the board knows it. A Chairman who has to bleed his own children for point-two percent stakes just to survive a council vote isn’t a leader—he’s a target."

"And what about our next move?" Samuel asked, turning his head slightly. "Do we push for an immediate internal audit now that we hold those seats?"

"No," Jake replied, his tone cool and unbothered as the elevator clicked to a smooth halt on the subterranean parking level. "We didn’t take those shares to run their company. We took them to teach Richard Newman what happens when his bloodline crosses my line. I have zero interest in dictating their daily operations. Let the poison work. Let Troy stew over Vanguard Harbor, and let Richard spend his week looking over his shoulder at his own brother. We give them three days to digest the new reality before we even step foot back in that boardroom."

The elevator doors slid open, revealing the sleek black Maybach waiting near the VIP exit. The driver held the door open as Jake, Alice, and Samuel stepped into the cool underground air.

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Back up on the 50th floor, the executive assembly room had devolved into chaos the moment the heavy double doors clicked shut behind Jake Rivers.

"A hidden shell company?!" Troy roared, slamming both palms onto the mahogany table so hard his water glass trembled. "You hid a four-year-old proxy from the board, Richard! This is a gross breach of fiduciary duty! I’ll have the corporate auditors freeze every asset tied to Vanguard Harbor by sunset!"

Richard didn’t even blink. He slowly picked up his Montblanc pen, capped it with a precise click, and slid it into his inner jacket pocket.

"Feel free to submit your petition to the audit committee, Troy," Richard said, his voice dropping an octave into an ice-cold register that made two nearby directors flinch. "Which, as you might recall, requires a two-thirds board majority to initiate. Do you have eight votes sitting at this table right now?"

Troy’s jaw worked silently as he glared around the room.

The directors avoided his eyes. Some stared intently at their phones, others adjusted their cuffs, and Mary Newman explicitly turned her chair away from her brother, her expression tight with disgust. The directors were furious about the ten percent loss, but Richard’s strategic ambush had proven one thing beyond a shadow of a doubt: the old man still held the reins, and striking at him recklessly meant career suicide.

"You think you’re clever, don’t you?" Troy spat, his face mottling with dark red blotches. "You humiliated the family! You handed ten percent of our bloodline’s equity on a silver platter to a twenty-three-year-old upstart because you couldn’t keep a leash on your own son!"

"I saved this company from your incompetence," Richard replied calmly, stepping around the head of the table. "This meeting is adjourned."

Without waiting for a response, Richard walked toward the private executive exit, flanked by Finn.

Troy stood alone near the head of the table, his chest heaving as the remaining directors quietly gathered their files and exited in pairs, whispering bitterly among themselves. Mary lingered for only a second, casting a look of pity and annoyance at Troy before leaving without saying a word.

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Ten minutes later, inside Richard’s private office, the atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a blade.

The heavy drapes were partially drawn against the darkening storm clouds, casting deep shadows across the sweeping mahogany desk. Finn stood near the liquor cabinet, his fingers steady as he poured two fingers of neat scotch into a heavy crystal tumbler before stepping across the room to place it in his father’s hand.

Richard didn’t drink right away. He stood by the vast glass window, watching the rain strike the pane with a dull, persistent drumming. When he finally spoke, his voice wasn’t filled with the authoritative thunder he had wielded in the boardroom moments earlier. It was surprisingly quiet. Heavy.

"Do you blame me, Finn?" Richard asked softly, not turning around.

Finn paused, his hand halting near his own untouched glass. "Dad—"

"Be honest with me," Richard insisted, his shoulders dropping a fraction of an inch as he turned slowly to face his son. His eyes, usually sharp and calculating, looked worn, framed by deep lines of fatigue that decades of corporate warfare had etched into his skin. "Do you think I was weak back there? Do you think your old man grew soft, giving away ten percent of our voting equity without even putting up a fight?"

Finn swallowed hard, struggling to align the vulnerable man standing before him with the ruthless Chairman who had just dismantled Troy’s coup. "We took a heavy loss, Dad. We handed Jake Rivers a massive foothold without dragging him into the trenches first. We could have called in our political contacts, put pressure on Meridian’s lenders, or tied Golden Investments up in regulatory injunctions for months. It feels... like we just handed him the crown."

Richard let out a long, shuddering breath. He reached down to set his glass on the desk, his fingers trembling slightly—a subtle, rare tremor that he quickly hid by resting his hands flat on the polished wood.

"When your mother passed..." Richard began, his voice dipping into a raspy, gravelly cadence. He stopped, pressing his lips into a tight line as a shadow of profound grief crossed his face. He looked down at his own hands, his knuckles whitening against the mahogany. "When Sarah died, the world stopped spinning for me. You remember how it was, Finn. You and Ray were old enough to hold onto memories of her. You had her voice in your heads. You had her warmth."

Richard’s throat worked as he swallowed back the sudden tightness in his chest. His eyes glistened faintly under the dim office lights, brimming with an old, unhealed sorrow.

"But Sam..." Richard whispered, shaking his head slowly, a posture of absolute defeat settling over his frame. "Sam had nothing. Just a nursery full of untouched toys and a father who was losing his mind trying to keep this company afloat during the liquidity crisis. I wasn’t home, Finn. I was locked in emergency board meetings for eighteen hours a day while my youngest child cried himself to sleep in an empty house."

He stepped away from the desk, pacing slowly toward the rain-streaked window, his chest rising and falling in heavy, labored breaths.

"Every time I looked at the boy back then," Richard continued, his voice thick with remorse, "all I felt was a crushing, suffocating guilt. I couldn’t bring his mother back. I couldn’t give him a normal home. So every time he threw a tantrum, I bought him what he wanted. Every time he broke something, I paid for it. Every time he crossed a line, I used my influence to erase the consequences. I told myself I was protecting him... making up for what fate had stolen from him."

A bitter, sorrowful laugh escaped Richard’s throat, completely devoid of humor.

"I didn’t protect him," Richard murmured, turning back to Finn, his expression haunted. "I poisoned him. I took a motherless child and turned him into an arrogant, rotten creature who thinks the world exists solely for his amusement. I saw what he was becoming when he was in college, but every time I raised my voice to discipline him, I saw your mother’s eyes looking back at me... and I broke. I couldn’t bring myself to crush him. That is my sin, Finn. I made him a monster with my own indulgence."

Finn stood completely silent, his heart aching for the old man. The anger he had harbored over the board’s surrender dissolved, replaced by a painful clarity.

"I ask you to be patient with him," Richard said quietly, his voice pleading now. "Not because he deserves your mercy, but because his failure is ultimately mine. I failed him long before he ever knew how to fail himself."

Finn cleared his throat, pushing past the lump in his own chest. "I understand, Dad. I do. But... why give Jake Rivers ten percent? Even with everything happening with Sam, why give up that much power without a war?"

Richard took a deep breath, pulling himself back together. The vulnerability in his face slowly receded, replaced once more by the cold, steel mask of a seasoned patriarch.

"You think I yielded those shares out of fear of a twenty-three-year-old upstart?" Richard asked softly...

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