Chapter 5
1243words
My financial allies—Marcus Lee and other brave souls from accounting and audit—risked everything to provide transaction records and account trails documenting Samuel's years of embezzlement through labyrinthine shell companies and offshore accounts. The sheer scale of his theft was staggering.
I also tracked down former "partners" whom Samuel had exploited and discarded. These bitter ex-allies provided damning recordings and documents proving his collusion with outside interests against our family.
Karen poured himself into investigating his mother's "accident." Using my leads and his military industry connections, he located both a retired police detective and an automotive forensics specialist who had worked the original case.
With promises of protection and generous compensation, they finally revealed the truth: the crash was meticulously engineered—brake lines deliberately compromised and evidence manipulated to suggest mechanical failure. All trails led to one of Samuel's most trusted lieutenants at that time.
While no smoking gun directly linked Samuel to the order, the timing and the cui bono principle—who benefits—pointed unmistakably in one direction.
Through methods best left unmentioned, we accessed encrypted files from Samuel's private server containing falsified financial reports, padded budgets, and most chillingly—a conversation between him and Lina. Her voice dripping with honey as she urged him to "handle" me permanently. His casual laugh as he discussed my unborn child as nothing more than "collateral damage" in their ambitions.
Hearing that recording froze my blood—suddenly I was back in those flames, feeling my child's life slipping away as smoke filled my lungs.
Hatred coiled around my heart like a venomous serpent, but I forced it down.
Emotion would only cloud judgment. This final strike required surgical precision.
Meanwhile, Karen quietly reached out to family members who'd long resented Samuel's methods, along with shareholders and technical advisors who recognized Iron Dome's superior potential.
Silently, inexorably, the battle lines within the Vanden Empire were drawn.
The storm broke with Grandfather's sudden call for an emergency board meeting. The agenda: "Future Succession Planning and Business Consolidation."
This was clearly Samuel's desperate countermove—using his remaining influence and whispers about my "emotional instability" to pressure Grandfather into formally naming him heir and consolidating all divisions, especially Iron Dome, under his direct control.
The boardroom air was thick enough to choke on. Around the massive table sat the family's power players and major shareholders, tense with anticipation. Grandfather presided at the head, his weathered face impassive as his gaze swept across the assembly before lingering momentarily on Samuel and me.
Samuel struck first, rising with practiced poise, his words dripping with false concern: "Grandfather, esteemed family members, shareholders. Recent events, particularly in Iron Dome Defense and our luxury division, reveal troubling discord and inefficiency. For our family's continued prosperity, we must clarify leadership and consolidate operations immediately. While my brother Karen's technical aptitude is valuable, running our diverse empire requires broader vision and…" he paused meaningfully, "more seasoned leadership." With a dismissive gesture toward Karen, he pivoted to me: "As for Ella, while talented, she remains young and possibly emotionally compromised from recent personal upheavals. Her increasingly aggressive business decisions suggest entrusting her with core operations would be imprudent."
He even proposed reinstating the recently disciplined Lina to a key management position, framing it as "developing young talent and ensuring balanced representation within our family structure."
I watched his performance with icy detachment.
Only when he finished and shot me that self-satisfied smirk did I slowly rise to my feet.
"Are you quite finished, Samuel?" My voice cut through the silence, calm but carrying to every corner of the room.
He frowned, instantly defensive. "Ella, mind your tone. This is a board meeting, not a place for your emotional outbursts."
"Emotional outbursts?" I gave a soft, dangerous laugh as I picked up the remote. "Let's see who's really gambling with the Vanden family's future, shall we?"
The first slides showed meticulously documented bank transfers and transaction webs revealing Samuel's systematic embezzlement. The staggering sums and elaborate money-laundering schemes drew audible gasps from around the table.
Next came internal memos and email chains proving his deliberate falsification of financial reports and wildly inflated project budgets.
Samuel's face drained of color. "This is fabricated!" he shouted, desperation creeping into his voice. "Ella is slandering me with forgeries!"
Without acknowledging him, I played the damning audio recording of Samuel discussing with outside investors how to systematically gut one of our family's core businesses.
The boardroom erupted. Shareholders exchanged horrified glances, their expressions shifting from shock to outrage as they stared at Samuel.
"This—this is all fake! Digitally manipulated!" Samuel stammered, sweat beading on his forehead.
Karen rose next, his face a mask of controlled grief and determination. "Grandfather, I've uncovered the truth about my mother's death. It was no accident." His voice remained steady as he presented forensic reports and sworn testimonies. "Her brake lines were deliberately sabotaged. All evidence points to Samuel's right-hand man. The timing? Just days before she was to assume control of Iron Dome Defense."
This revelation landed like a thunderbolt—far more devastating than any financial malfeasance.
Murder within the family—the ultimate taboo. Even Grandfather, stoic throughout, visibly flinched, his hands trembling against the polished table.
Lina, sensing the tide turning catastrophically, cracked completely. "It was all him!" she shrieked, pointing wildly at Samuel. "He made me help with the money! But killing Ella's baby was his idea! He said once the child was gone, Ella would—"
"Shut your mouth, you stupid bitch!" Samuel lunged toward her, face contorted with rage. He clearly hadn't anticipated her betrayal.
In his panic, he blurted, "You're just as guilty! If you hadn't been so pathetically jealous of Ella, constantly pushing me to—"
Before he could finish, I pressed play on the final recording. His conversation with Lina filled the room—her vicious suggestions and his chilling, casual discussion of my unborn child's murder.
"ENOUGH!" Grandfather's fist crashed down on the table as he rose to his full height.
His face was ashen, chest heaving, eyes blazing with a fury I'd never witnessed in all my years.
He fixed Samuel with a gaze that could have incinerated stone. "Samuel Vanden. You have betrayed everything this family stands for. Theft. Conspiracy. Murder of your own blood. You are no longer worthy of the Vanden name."
His withering gaze shifted to the cowering Lina. "And you. Vicious, manipulative, ungrateful for every opportunity this family gave you."
Grandfather drew himself up, suddenly looking decades older yet somehow more formidable. "As patriarch of the Vanden family, I hereby strip Samuel Vanden of all positions, privileges, and inheritance rights, effective immediately. All evidence will be turned over to prosecutors for criminal charges."
"Lina Vanden ceases to exist in this family as of this moment. You will leave with nothing but the clothes on your back."
Security materialized instantly, escorting a shell-shocked Samuel and a hysterically sobbing Lina from the boardroom.
A profound silence descended, broken only by Grandfather's labored breathing.
He sank back into his chair, eyes closed, looking utterly drained.
I watched them being led away, surprised to feel not triumph but a vast hollowness, as if something ancient and poisonous had finally been excised, leaving only quiet in its wake.
The blood and fire of my past life, the hatred and machinations of this one—all culminating in this moment of reckoning.
