Chapter 6 - The Design Trap
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The transition wasn’t going to be seamless, and Evan wasn't going down without a fight.
Two days after the boardroom coup, I arrived at the Connecticut build site. It was a massive, sprawling luxury eco-resort that was supposed to be Evan’s crowning achievement. Instead, the site was painfully quiet.
I stepped out of my car, my boots crunching on the frozen gravel.
Waiting for me near the main foundations was Sloane Mercer.
She wore a pristine white trench coat and designer sunglasses, looking completely out of place amid the heavy machinery and dirt.
“What are you doing here, Sloane?” I asked, holding my clipboard tightly.
She smiled, a thin, venomous expression.
“Evan sent me. As his proxy.”
“Evan doesn’t have a proxy. He was terminated.”
“He is still a majority shareholder, Claire,” she countered, stepping closer. “And I am his new legal consultant. We’re filing an injunction to halt your interim directorship. You forced him out under duress.”
I laughed, a genuine sound of disbelief.
“Duress? Because I owned the designs he stole?”
Sloane took off her sunglasses, her eyes narrowing.
“You think you’re so smart. But you’re just a bitter woman holding a grudge. Evan told me everything about this project. He knows every detail. We don’t need your stupid garden designs to finish it.”
“Really?” I tilted my head. “Then you obviously haven’t reviewed the structural permits.”
Sloane frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“I didn’t just design the gardens, Sloane. I designed the integrated water-retention systems beneath them. The entire foundation of the East Wing relies on the architectural patents filed under my LLC. If you alter my designs without my explicit permission, the county will revoke the building permits instantly. The site will be shut down for a year.”
Her smug expression vanished, replaced by a flash of genuine panic.
“You wouldn’t.”
“I already called the county inspector. He’s arriving in an hour.” I stepped into her personal space, dropping my voice to a whisper. “You wanted my husband, Sloane? You can have him. But this company? This project? It belongs to me. Now get off my site before I have you arrested for trespassing.”
Sloane’s fists clenched at her sides. She looked like she wanted to slap me again.
But this wasn’t a dining room, and she had no audience.
May you like
She turned and marched back to her car, her stilettos sinking into the mud.
The war was escalating, and I was holding all the detonators.
