Chapter 4 - THE MORNING VOTE
“What happens tomorrow morning?”
Damon smiled because he wanted me frightened.
“Eight-thirty. Boardroom.”
Dad’s face changed.
Grace was already typing.
“What boardroom?”
“Bennett Development.”
Dad stepped closer.
“There is no scheduled board meeting.”
“There is now.”
Damon pulled his phone from his pocket.
Grace’s screen chimed seconds later.
She opened the email.
NOTICE OF SPECIAL BOARD MEETING.
The stated purpose was temporary governance during a “family medical crisis.”
My medical crisis.
I read the next paragraph twice.
The proposed resolution would place Damon in temporary executive control of voting shares associated with my trust until after the birth of our daughter and until I was “medically cleared to resume participation.”
“I never agreed to this.”
Damon shrugged.
“You don’t have to.”
Dad grabbed Grace’s laptop.
“Who called the meeting?”
“Damon,” she said. “Using proxy authority.”
Dad froze.
That silence frightened me.
I looked between them.
“What proxy authority?”
Grace turned toward my father.
“Charles?”
He rubbed a hand across his mouth.
Before leaving for London, Dad had signed a limited voting proxy allowing Damon to handle ordinary board matters if Dad could not attend electronically.
Ordinary matters.
Not removing officers.
Not transferring my trust.
Not rewriting ownership.
But Damon had attached a legal opinion claiming the medical emergency expanded his authority.
“Who wrote the opinion?” I asked.
Grace scrolled.
“Brent Shaw.”
Damon’s personal attorney.
Of course.
Lacey finally moved toward the house.
“I’m leaving.”
I stood.
“No.”
She stared at me.
“You don’t control me.”
“You’re wearing my clothes and standing in a house financed by my family while your company receives money stolen through my signature. Take off the robe and leave it.”
Her cheeks flushed.
Damon stepped toward me.
Dad moved between us immediately.
“Try it.”
Damon stopped.
Lacey disappeared inside.
Two minutes later she returned in the black dress she had apparently arrived in, carrying a handbag.
The silk robe lay abandoned on the hallway floor.
Grace stopped her.
“Nothing belonging to Claire goes with you.”
Lacey opened the handbag dramatically.
Makeup.
Keys.
Wallet.
A folded packet.
Grace pulled it out.
Lacey reached for it too late.
The first page carried the name of a private residential treatment center forty miles away.
Under “Patient” was my name.
Claire Bennett.
Proposed admission: tomorrow, 3:00 p.m.
Reason:
Acute emotional instability during late pregnancy.
My hands went numb.
Damon’s board meeting wasn’t the whole plan.
He intended to strip my authority in the morning.
May you like
Then remove me from my own home by afternoon.
📖 Damon’s financial scheme suddenly had a second weapon: if he could make me look unstable, stealing my authority might appear almost legitimate. 👇
