Chapter 459

Nathan's deliberate humiliation was impossible to miss. The atmosphere in the boardroom shifted palpably as the executives' gazes turned icy, laced with undisguised scorn.

Penelope's fingers trembled against the polished mahogany table. "Even as CEO, you can't override the board's authority! This decision requires the chairman's approval! How dare you act unilaterally?"

Nathan's lips curled into a razor-thin smile. "Ms. Whitmore, are you suggesting the chairman would condone Cassandra's actions—commercial theft, fraud, crashing our stock value by billions overnight—simply because she's his daughter?"

Each question struck like a scalpel, dissecting the truth with surgical precision. The executives' scrutiny sharpened, their disapproval radiating toward Penelope.

Her blood ran cold. The humiliation burned like acid, stripping her bare before these wolves in tailored suits.

"Corporate fairness is an illusion," Nathan continued, his voice cutting through the tension. "Beneath its gilded surface, corruption festers. But as long as I lead this company, those parasites will never see daylight."

Not a single insult was uttered, yet Penelope felt flayed alive.

Silence. Then—applause erupted, thunderous and approving. The executives' eyes gleamed with newfound respect.

By noon, the entire company buzzed with gossip. Employees clustered in break rooms, snickering over the chairman's wife's disastrous theatrics.

"Did you see her storm into that meeting? Even a stray dog has better manners!"

The official dismissal email sparked another wave of exhilaration.

"Finally! That viper's gone!"

"Thank Mr. Blackwood! I'm framing his photo on my desk—our real savior!"

"Cutting ties? More like cutting out the rot!"

Oliver nearly bounced in his chair. "Sir, watching Penelope implode was better than a spa day! That woman deserved every second of it!"

Nathan arched a brow. "Foot massages, Oliver? Is working for me that stressful?"

"What? No! It's—it's a metaphor!" Oliver flailed.

"Has the investigation begun?" Nathan settled onto the sofa, his posture deceptively relaxed.

"Ms. Carter's secretary submitted evidence. The media blackout's in place—Cassandra's finished." Oliver grinned.

Nathan's expression remained unreadable. This wasn't his battle; it was Evelyn's. He merely ensured the path was clear.

"Sir, about the hospital... Ms. Carter had severe cramps. She stayed until midnight." Oliver hesitated.

Nathan's jaw tightened. An invisible vise clamped around his chest.

"Should I... deliver some medicine? As an excuse to check on her?"

"Do I need excuses to see my wife?" Nathan's voice dropped to a dangerous murmur.

Oliver gulped. "N-no, sir."

"Then why," Nathan said softly, "would I send you?"