Chapter 18 - Triumphant Return
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Five months after the emergency delivery, the front entrance doors of Whitmore Development opened.
I stepped into the grand marble lobby wearing a sharp cream-colored trousersuit, my hair styled impeccably, holding a polished mahogany walking cane in my right hand. Beside me walked Rachel, carrying my executive briefcase.
The lobby was completely silent for three seconds.
Then, the receptionist stood up and began to clap.
Within moments, the entire floor exploded into applause. Department heads, analysts, administrative assistants, and security staff poured out of their offices, standing along the balconies and lining the corridors, applauding as I walked steadily across the lobby floor.
They weren't clapping because I was their boss. They were clapping because they had read the court documents, seen the news reports, and knew the sheer level of hell I had crawled through to return to my father's chair.
I walked into the executive suite, stopping at the head of the massive mahogany conference table where Mark had tried to execute his corporate ambush.
Gerald Price stood waiting for me, holding a crystal glass of sparkling water.
"Welcome home, Chief," Gerald said, smiling warmly as he handed me the glass.
May you like
I set my cane against the table, pulled out the heavy leather chair at the head of the room, and sat down under my own power.
"Let's get to work," I said.
