Chapter 3 - The Boardroom UltimatumThe executive office of Seabriar Hall smelled faintly of old mahogany, leather, and the expensive cologne Caleb wore—a scent that now made my stomach turn.
Caleb burst through the office door uninvited, slamming his palm against the heavy oak wood. "You are not locking me out of my own office, Julianne! I built this company from the ground up!"
"You built nothing," my father said from the doorway. Graham Voss didn't raise his voice, but the sheer physical presence of the six-foot-two retired master builder commanded absolute silence. "You married into a foundation my grandfather laid and my wife maintained. And right now, you're standing in a room you don't legally own, shouting at a woman who just had major surgery to give birth to your child."
Caleb glared at my father, then shifted his angry gaze back to me. "Jules, please. Be reasonable. Brynna doesn't have anywhere to go. The baby is innocent in all of this. If you blow up Mercer Events right now, we lose our major corporate contracts, the bank forecloses on our equipment loans, and everybody loses."
"No, Caleb," I said, sliding into the leather desk chair and booting up the master terminal. "You lose. I retain Seabriar Hall, the land, the trust assets, and sole custody of my daughter. You get a ruined reputation and a very expensive lawsuit."
Delaney walked in, carrying three printed legal documents straight from the secure server logs. She laid them neatly across the mahogany desk in front of me.
"What are those?" Caleb demanded, his voice finally losing its polished veneer and cracking with genuine panic.
"Document number one," I said, tapping the first crisp sheet of paper, "is the immediate termination notice of Mercer Events LLC's commercial lease agreement for Seabriar Hall, effective precisely at 5:00 PM today, due to breach of operational ethics and unauthorized structural modifications in the east guest cottage."
Caleb stared at the paper as if it were a venomous snake. "You can't do that! We have weddings booked through next November!"
"Correction," I corrected smoothly. "Seabriar Hall has bookings through next November. And as of five minutes ago, my father's management firm, Voss Heritage Properties, has agreed to step in as the exclusive venue operator. Every single booked couple will be contacted by tomorrow morning and offered a seamless transition under new management—excluding Mercer Events entirely."
Caleb's face went completely grey. "Jules... you're destroying everything we built together."
"Document number two," I continued, ignoring his plea entirely, sliding the second paper forward. "Is your formal resignation as Vice President of Seabriar Hall Operations, accompanied by a permanent restraining order prohibiting you, Brynna Shaw, and Marianne Mercer from setting foot on this property ever again."
Caleb reached out violently, grabbing the edge of the desk. "I will never sign that. I’ll take you to court. I'll sue for spousal support, asset division, and joint custody!"
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I looked up at him, my eyes freezing cold. "Go ahead. Discovery will be fascinating. Especially when my attorneys submit document number three."
I tapped the final document.
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