The ride to Sterling Tower was silent.
The city was waking up, but inside Kian’s car, it was still the dead of night. The only sounds were the soft hum of the engine and the rustle of a single manila folder on the leather seat between them.
Cassandra Thorne’s signed affidavit. Their weapon.
Audrey stared out the window, watching the gray dawn break over the skyscrapers. The horror of the museum was a fresh wound, but beneath it was a bedrock of resolve. Cole was a caged animal. His power was gone.
Now, they were going after the zookeeper.
Kian drove with a chilling, focused calm. The man who had held her trembling in the ruins of her exhibit was gone. In his place was the magnate. The predator. The king returning to his castle to depose a corrupt regent.
He pulled into the private underground garage of the tallest, most formidable building in the city. Sterling Tower.
He cut the engine. For a moment, they just sat there in the sudden silence.
He turned to her, his eyes dark with intent. “Are you ready?”
She met his gaze, no hesitation in her own. “I’ve been ready.”
He took her hand, his thumb stroking her knuckles. “Stay right behind me. Don’t let her isolate you.”
“We do this together,” Audrey said. It wasn’t a question. It was a fact.
He brought her hand to his lips, a silent promise. Then he picked up the folder.
They walked through the marble lobby like ghosts. The morning security guards saw Kian and simply nodded, their faces impassive. He was a myth in this building, the reclusive owner who was never seen. His sudden appearance was an omen.
The private elevator whisked them to the top floor in a silent, stomach-dropping ascent. The doors opened directly into the anteroom of the main boardroom.
Beatrice’s executive assistant looked up, her mouth falling open in shock.
Kian didn’t break stride. “Is she in there?”
“Mr. Sterling, she’s—she’s preparing for the nine a.m. board meeting. She’s not expecting…”
“She is now,” Kian said, his voice cutting through the air like shaved ice.
He pushed open the thirty-foot mahogany doors and walked in. Audrey was a step behind him, her hand on his back.
The boardroom was a cathedral of glass and steel, overlooking the entire city.
Beatrice Sterling stood at the head of the massive table, a tablet in her hand. She was dressed in a severe navy power suit, the picture of untouchable authority. She looked up, her expression of annoyance shifting to one of triumphant contempt when she saw them.
“Kian,” she said, her voice dripping with condescension. “And you brought your little project with you. To what do I owe the… unexpected visit?”
She thought this was about Cole. She thought they had come to her, broken, to beg for help cleaning up the museum scandal.
Kian didn’t answer. He walked the length of the table, the folder held loosely in his hand. He stopped directly across from her.
“The games are over, Mother,” he said.
Beatrice laughed, a short, ugly sound. “Oh, I do hope not. I was just beginning to enjoy them. I heard about the unfortunate incident at the museum. A terrible shame. It seems your girlfriend is a bit more… volatile than we thought.”
Audrey felt a tremor of rage, but she held her ground, silent. This was Kian’s stage.
“You paid Cassandra Thorne two hundred and fifty thousand dollars through a shell corporation to lie about being the mother of my child,” Kian stated. It was not an accusation. It was a line item on an invoice.
Beatrice’s smile tightened, but she didn’t flinch. “That’s a rather serious allegation. Do you have any proof?”
Kian tossed the folder onto the table. It slid across the polished wood and stopped directly in front of her.
“I have her signed and notarized confession,” he said. “Along with the wire transfer receipts from the shell company your CFO set up in the Caymans. The same one you used to pay off the tabloid reporter who ran the first story.”
Beatrice stared at the folder as if it were a snake. Slowly, she opened it. Her eyes scanned the first page. The color drained from her face. Her perfect, manicured composure shattered like a dropped vase.
She looked up, her eyes wide with a mixture of disbelief and panic.
“She’s lying,” Beatrice hissed. “That woman is a desperate, pathetic liar!”
“She is,” Kian agreed, his voice dangerously soft. “But she’s your liar. And her testimony, along with the financial records, is more than enough to have you removed from this board for gross misconduct and misuse of corporate funds.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Beatrice whispered, the threat hollow.
This was Audrey’s moment. She took a step forward, her voice clear and steady, ringing with the authority Beatrice had tried so hard to strip from her.
“You underestimated me,” Audrey said. “You thought I was just some girl Kian found at the docks. You never once stopped to think that he might actually love me. That we might actually fight for each other.”
Beatrice’s hateful glare shifted to Audrey. “You. You did this. You poisoned him against his own family.”
“No,” Kian said, his voice booming in the vast room. “You did. You chose a legacy of steel and glass over your own son. You saw love as a liability. That’s your mistake. Not mine.”
He straightened his suit jacket. The finality of the gesture was absolute.
“As the majority shareholder, I am invoking Article Seven, Section Four of the Sterling Industries bylaws. I am calling an emergency session of this board for ten a.m. The only item on the agenda will be a vote of no confidence to demand your immediate resignation.”
Beatrice sank into the chair behind her, her knuckles white on the table. “The board will never…”
“They will,” Kian cut her off. “I’ve already spoken to them. They’ve seen the evidence. They will stand with me.” He paused. “Or they will be replaced.”
He had won. It was a total, unconditional surrender.
“Furthermore,” he continued, delivering the final, killing blow. “I am freezing your access to the Sterling family trust, effective immediately. Your credit cards have been canceled. Your accounts are suspended. The penthouse, the cars, the jet… they are all assets of the trust. Not you. You are cut off.”
Beatrice looked up at him, her face a mask of utter devastation. She wasn’t just losing her power. She was losing her identity. Everything she had built her life upon was being taken away in the space of five minutes.
“Kian… please,” she breathed, the word a foreign, desperate sound on her lips. “I’m your mother.”
“No,” he said, his voice devoid of all emotion. “You are the woman who tried to destroy the mother of my child. We’re done here.”
He turned his back on her. He took Audrey’s hand, his fingers lacing through hers.
Together, they walked out of the boardroom. They didn’t look back.
The heavy mahogany doors clicked shut behind them, sealing Beatrice Sterling alone in the silent, glass-walled tomb of the empire she had just lost.