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Chapter 345
Chapter 345:
Alycia stood beside him. She did not understand the intricacies of corporate bylaws, but she could read the terrifying shift in the room’s temperature. She felt Cole’s hesitation like a physical thing.
Panic seized her throat. She reached out and grabbed the cuff of his suit jacket, her fingers trembling.
“Cole,” Alycia whispered, her voice cracking, her eyes welling with frantic tears. “Please. Don’t let her take our home p>
Cole snapped his head toward her.
He looked at Alycia with a gaze so dark and full of unfiltered rage that all the breath left her lungs. It was the look of a predator cornered by a threat he could not beat.
𝗗𝘪ѕ𝘤o𝘃e𝘳 𝗻𝗲𝘸 s𝘵o𝘳𝗶𝖾s 𝗼𝗇 ѕ.сo𝗆
Alycia gasped and instantly released his sleeve, taking a small, trembling step backward.
Cole dragged a harsh breath into his burning lungs and forced the boiling rage down into his stomach. He looked back at his grandmother — the woman holding the absolute power to destroy his reign.
He forced the words through his clenched teeth. They tasted like bile.
“You win, Grandma,” Cole rasped.
Old Mrs. Compton did not even blink. She did not offer a victorious smile. She simply turned her icy gaze to the senior broker, who was still sweating profusely against the wall.
“Cancel his Priority Review hold,” the matriarch commanded, her voice devoid of warmth. “Prepare the transfer documents immediately p>
The broker let out a massive, shuddering exhale, looking exactly like a man who had just been pardoned from the electric chair.
“Yes, Madam! Right away!” he stammered, practically tripping over his own expensive leather shoes as he sprinted back toward his office.
Richard and Martha Beasley stood completely paralyzed in the center of the corridor. The sycophantic smiles they had worn just minutes ago were now frozen permanently on their faces, making them look like two absurd, deflated clowns.
Old Mrs. Compton leaned on her silver-handled cane and looked directly at Cole, her eyes narrowing.
“And one more condition,” the old woman added, her voice dropping to a lethal, precise register. “This property will be transferred directly into June’s personal offshore trust in the Cayman Islands p>
The words hit the air like a shockwave.
An offshore trust in the Cayman Islands meant the hundred-million-dollar estate would become June’s absolute, untouchable pre-marital asset. In the impending divorce litigation, Cole’s corporate lawyers would not be able to touch a single blade of grass on that property.
Cole’s pupils contracted. His heart hammered against his ribs.
He stared at his grandmother in disbelief. He suddenly understood that this was not merely a punishment for his arrogance — it was a deliberate, calculated arming of his wife. His grandmother was building an impenetrable fortress for June right in front of his eyes.
Through the entire exchange, June stood perfectly still.
Her face was a mask of freezing calm. She watched the multi-million-dollar war over her future as though they were discussing the weather. She felt no triumph. Only a deep, profound exhaustion.
The senior broker sprinted back down the hallway, his hands shaking as he presented a brand-new iPad to June. The screen was filled with dense, complex property transfer clauses.