Chapter 94
Chapter 94:
It felt as though someone had reached into his chest and torn his lungs free. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t speak. The woman who had once looked at him as though he hung the stars was standing before him, calmly announcing her intention to use his wealth to sustain another man. His own cruelty, turned back on him with surgical precision, had shattered him completely.
His hands shook. “You…” he choked out, barely above a whisper. “You will never see a dime p>
Before June could respond, the living room doors burst open.
Vance, the Compton Group’s lead counsel, rushed in with his tie askew and perspiration on his brow, his expression cutting through the family tension like an alarm.
“Mr. Compton!” he called out. “We have a massive emergency p>
The tension in the living room was thick enough to cut with a knife.
Lead Counsel Vance stood by the door, breathing hard, clutching a red-stamped leather portfolio. His eyes moved from Cole’s pale, devastated face to the divorce papers resting on the coffee table.
“I need a closed-door meeting with you immediately, sir,” he said, his voice tight with urgency.
Cole dragged his gaze away from June. He drew a slow, shuddering breath, forcing the shattered pieces of his composure back into place. Then he grabbed the divorce folder from the table — his fingers crushing the thick paper — and walked toward his private study. Vance followed close behind.
𝖱𝗈𝗆𝖺n𝘤𝖾 𝗮𝘯d paѕs𝗶о𝗻 o𝘯 ѕ.c𝘰m
The heavy, soundproof oak doors swung shut with a resounding thud.
“What is it?” Cole barked, throwing the folder onto his mahogany desk.
Vance set the red portfolio down in front of him.
“The SEC has just opened a formal investigation into Compton Holdings’ offshore accounts,” he said grimly. “They suspect insider trading in connection with the recent tech acquisitions p>
Cole’s eyes narrowed. The businessman in him took over immediately. He scanned the document. “This is a coordinated short-selling attack by our competitors p>
“Yes, sir.” Vance nodded. “The stock is already fluctuating in after-hours trading. The market is spooked.” He pointed a trembling finger at the crumpled divorce papers on the desk. “Mr. Compton, in the middle of an SEC probe, any major shift in the primary shareholder’s marital assets will trigger a panic sell-off. The board will lose their minds p>
Cole gripped the edge of the desk. “Get to the point p>
“The point,” Vance said, his voice stripped of all pretense, “is that your marriage must remain absolutely stable. The divorce proceedings must be legally frozen until the preliminary investigation concludes. We are looking at a minimum of three months p>
Three months.
The words echoed through Cole’s mind.
A strange, dark emotion swelled in his chest — a compound of legal frustration and a sudden, overwhelming, almost nauseating sense of relief. He had an excuse. An ironclad, federally sanctioned excuse to keep her here. She could not leave him. The law would not allow it.
Cole rose slowly from his chair. He straightened his cuffs. The raw panic from the living room receded, replaced by the cold, composed mask of a billionaire CEO.
“Go tell my wife the bad news,” he ordered.
Two minutes later, Vance walked back into the living room. Cole positioned himself against the doorframe of the study, arms folded, watching with the quiet stillness of a predator who had just cornered his prey.