Hell Hath no fury like a billionaire's Ex-Chapter 79: He’s A Thief

Diane’s POV

The Transcorp Hotel loomed before us, its glass exterior reflecting the morning sun like a gleaming beacon of hope. After our narrow escape from the café, Joan and I sat in stunned silence as our rideshare pulled up to the imposing entrance.

"We made it," Joan said, checking her watch. "With fifteen minutes to spare."

I smoothed my navy blue dress, trying to calm the flutter of nerves in my stomach that had nothing to do with the twins kicking inside me. "Do I look okay? Professional enough?"

Joan squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You look like a woman about to take back her company."

The doorman greeted us with a practiced smile as we entered the marble lobby. Everything about the Transcorp screamed wealth and discretion—from the hushed conversations in the seating areas to the understated elegance of the décor. It was a place where the powerful made deals away from prying eyes.

"Mrs. Ashton?" A poised woman in a tailored suit approached us. "I’m Melissa, Mr. Guerrero’s executive assistant. He asked me to escort you to the meeting."

I nodded, grateful for the guidance. "Thank you. This is Joan Hand, my legal counsel."

Melissa led us to a private elevator that required a keycard for access. "The board members are already assembled in our executive conference room on the fifteenth floor," she explained as we ascended. "Mr. Guerrero has ensured complete privacy for this meeting."

My hand instinctively went to my belly as the twins shifted. The weight of what I was about to do pressed down on me—I wasn’t just fighting for myself anymore, but for my children’s future. For the company that should have been part ours from the beginning.

As the elevator doors opened, I took a deep breath and straightened my shoulders. The hallway was elegantly appointed with subtle artwork and plush carpeting that muffled our footsteps. Melissa stopped before a polished oak door and knocked twice before opening it.

"Mrs. Ashton and Ms. Joan have arrived," she announced, gesturing for us to enter.

The mini conference room was smaller than I’d expected, but no less impressive. A gleaming oval table dominated the space, surrounded by high-backed leather chairs. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered a spectacular view of the city, though the privacy glass ensured no one could see in. Seven people—all men except for one woman—sat around the table, their conversations ceasing as we entered.

My eyes immediately scanned the faces, looking for Noah. Despite his anger with me, part of me had hoped he would be here, offering silent support. But he was conspicuously absent, and the pang of disappointment I felt surprised me with its intensity.

Mr. Guerrero stood as we entered, his imposing frame commanding attention. In his tailored Brioni suit and with his silver hair swept back from his forehead, he exuded the quiet confidence of a man accustomed to power.

"Mrs. Ashton," he said, extending his hand. "Thank you for joining us this morning. Please, have a seat."

I shook his hand firmly, maintaining eye contact. "Thank you for arranging this meeting, Mr. Guerrero."

Joan and I took the two empty chairs at the table. I noticed the board members studying me with undisguised curiosity—the pregnant woman who had aired her husband’s dirty laundry on national television, now sitting before them as if applying for a job.

In a way, I was.

"Allow me to make introductions," Guerrero began, gesturing around the table. "You know me, of course. This is Victoria Hawthorne, Marcus Grant, Richard Dumont, Malcolm Sterling, Walter Jesse, and Victor Langley. Together we comprise the executive board of Synergy Sphere, minus your husband and Mr. Noah Hemsworth, who could not be present today."

I nodded at each person, memorizing their faces. Allies or obstacles—I’d know soon enough.

"I should state for the record," Guerrero continued, "that this is not an official board meeting. We are here in an exploratory capacity only, to hear what Mrs. Ashton has to share with us."

"We appreciate your willingness to meet with us, especially under the circumstances," I said, keeping my tone measured and professional despite the butterflies in my stomach.

Guerrero folded his hands on the table, his expression unreadable. "Let’s not waste time with pleasantries, Mrs. Ashton. Since your interview aired, Synergy Sphere’s stock has dropped by fifteen percent. Major investors are threatening to pull out. The press is camped outside our headquarters, hounding our employees. The company your husband built—that you claim to care about—is in crisis."

His words landed like stones, but I refused to flinch. "The company ’we’ built, Mr. Guerrero. And yes, I’m well aware of the current situation."

"I understand you believe you should replace Liam as CEO," he continued, a note of skepticism in his voice. "Noah Hemsworth has advocated on your behalf quite passionately. But I have to ask—what qualifies you to lead Synergy Sphere? What abilities do you possess that would restore the company to its former glory? Because that’s what’s at stake here. Not your personal vendetta against your husband, but the livelihoods of thousands of employees and the investments of countless shareholders."

The challenge in his voice was unmistakable. This wasn’t going to be easy—they weren’t going to hand me the company simply because Liam had wronged me. I needed to prove myself worthy.

I took a deep breath and straightened in my chair. "Mr. Guerrero, members of the board, I understand your concerns. You’re right to question my qualifications. What I’m about to tell you may come as a surprise."

I paused, letting the tension build. "I have always been the marketing genius behind Synergy Sphere’s most successful product launches and brand positioning."

A ripple of reaction passed around the table—raised eyebrows, skeptical glances.

"The customer-centric rebranding campaign that transformed our market penetration? That was my strategy. The ’Seamless Integration’ messaging that made our technical solutions accessible to non-technical executives? My concept. The global brand architecture that unified our disparate products under one cohesive identity? That was my vision executed flawlessly."

I leaned forward slightly, my voice gaining confidence with each word. "I developed the market segmentation approach that allowed us to target enterprise clients more effectively than anyone else in the industry. The user personas that guided our product development teams to create solutions people actually wanted? Those came from my market research."

My voice hardened as I continued, "For years, I’ve been content to work behind the scenes, letting Liam take credit for these marketing breakthroughs. What could I do? I loved my husband. I believed in our partnership, both personal and professional. But what did I get in return for my loyalty, my brilliant strategies, my sacrifice?"

My voice hardened as I spat out the word: "Betrayal."

The boardroom had gone completely silent. Even Joan looked slightly startled by the conviction in my voice.

"Liam Ashton is not the visionary you think he is," I continued, my voice steady. "He’s a charismatic frontman who excels at presenting marketing plans I developed, customer insights I uncovered, and go-to-market strategies I crafted. But worse than that, he’s a liar, a manipulator, and—" I paused for effect, "a thief."

The word hung in the air like a gunshot. Several board members exchanged glances. Victoria Hawthorne leaned forward, her eyes narrowing.

"That’s a serious accusation, Mrs. Ashton," Guerrero said quietly, his expression unreadable.

"It is. And I don’t make it lightly." I turned to Joan and nodded.

Joan opened her briefcase and extracted a thick folder, placing it deliberately on the table. "What Mrs. Ashton is referring to is documented in these files," she said, her lawyer voice calm and authoritative. "Liam Ashton has been systematically siphoning company funds into offshore accounts for years. He’s been involved in illegal dealings that could potentially expose Synergy Sphere to significant legal liability."

The silence in the room was deafening. Guerrero’s face darkened as he reached for the folder.

"These are serious allegations," he said, his voice dangerously quiet. "If you’re bluffing, Mrs. Ashton, this meeting is over."

"I assure you, I’m not bluffing," I replied, meeting his gaze steadily. "Those documents show transactions dating back three years, moving money from company accounts through a series of shells and ultimately into private holdings in the Cayman Islands. Money that should have been reported as corporate assets, reinvested in the company, or distributed to shareholders."

Joan began distributing copies of key documents to each board member. "You’ll find everything clearly laid out. Bank transfers, account numbers, dates, amounts. It’s all there."

Mr. Guerrero took one of the files, his expression growing stormier as he flipped through the pages. The other board members were doing the same, their faces registering shock, anger, disbelief.

"If these documents are authentic," Guerrero said slowly, "Liam could be facing criminal charges."

"They’re authentic," I assured him. "And yes, he could be. Which is why I believe it’s in the best interest of the company to remove him as CEO immediately, before this information becomes public. If the SEC gets wind of this, Synergy Sphere could face investigations that would make our current PR crisis look like a minor inconvenience."

Victoria Hawthorne, the only female board member, spoke up for the first time. "How did you obtain these documents, Mrs. Ashton?"

I hesitated. Explaining Sophie’s involvement would lead to questions I wasn’t prepared to answer. "I have my sources," I said simply. "What matters is that they’re genuine and they represent a real threat to this company’s future."

Guerrero set down the file and stood up, pacing behind his chair. "I’ll need to verify these claims," he said finally. "I’ll call Liam in for a full financial review, see what he has to say for himself. In the meantime—" he turned to face me, "—we need to stabilize the company. Stop the bleeding."

"That’s exactly what I want too," I assured him.

"Elite Group," Guerrero said abruptly. "Are you familiar with them?"

I nodded. "Of course. One of the most renowned investment firms in the city."

"They’ve expressed interest in partnering with Synergy Sphere on a major project. If we could secure that contract, it would go a long way toward restoring investor confidence. Not to mention the financial injection would be... significant."

I could see where this was heading. "You want me to help secure the Zenith contract."

Guerrero nodded slowly. "If you’re serious about becoming CEO, Mrs. Ashton, prove it. Show us you can bring value to this company beyond exposing your husband’s misdeeds. Get Elite Group to partner with us, convince them to invest in Synergy Sphere despite our current... challenges. Do that, and combined with your existing ten percent shareholding, I’ll personally advocate for your appointment as interim CEO while we deal with the allegations against Liam."

My heart raced. This was more than I’d hoped for—a clear path forward, a chance to prove myself.

"I can do that," I said confidently. "In fact, I believe I can not only secure the contract but convince them to increase their investment portfolio with us."

That wasn’t entirely true, but I’ve been making research on the Elite Group.

"Excellent," Guerrero said, his expression softening slightly. "As for these documents—" he gestured to the files spread across the table, "—we’ll investigate immediately. If they prove accurate, the board will take appropriate action against Liam, regardless of the Elite outcome."

"And if they believe what’s in those files," I said, "trust me when I say that once I become CEO, our stock will not only recover but exceed its previous levels. The markets may be temporarily alarmed by the shakeup, but they respect decisive action against corruption. Plus—" I allowed myself a small smile, "—I’ve become quite the public figure lately. My story resonates with people. We can use that."

Guerrero actually laughed at that, the tension in the room breaking slightly. "Indeed you have, Mrs. Ashton. Indeed you have."

We all stood as the meeting concluded, shaking hands around the table. Several board members lingered to ask me questions about specific innovations I’d mentioned, and I answered with the confidence of someone who had indeed been intimately involved with the company’s development. Not lies, exactly, but carefully crafted truths that positioned me as the brilliant mind behind Liam’s success.

As Joan and I prepared to leave, Guerrero pulled me aside. "I hope you understand what you’re getting into, Mrs. Ashton," he said quietly. "Running Synergy Sphere is not for the faint of heart. Especially not now."

"I’m not faint of heart, Mr. Guerrero," I replied, holding his gaze. "I never have been."

He nodded slowly. "I’m beginning to see that. We’ll be in touch about Zenith. And Diane—" he hesitated, then continued, "—be careful. If these allegations against Liam are true, you’ve made a very dangerous enemy."

I thought of the man who had followed us that morning, of Liam’s threats on Sophie’s recording. "I’m well aware of that, Mr. Guerrero. Trust me."

As Joan and I finally left the conference room, I couldn’t help but clutch at my waist with one hand, the other instinctively supporting my belly. The strain of maintaining my composure throughout the meeting had left me exhausted.

"You look like the Kool-Aid Man," Joan teased as we walked toward the elevators, referring to my wide stance and hand positions. "Ready to burst through a wall yelling ’Oh yeah!’"

I laughed despite myself, the tension finally breaking. "I feel like I might burst, but not quite like that."

"You were brilliant in there," Joan said, her voice softer now. "The way you handled Guerrero and the board—I was impressed."

"I had to be," I replied simply. "For the twins. For myself."

The elevator arrived, and as we descended, I felt a strange mix of triumph and anxiety. I had convinced the board to consider me as CEO, but now I needed to deliver on my promises. And I still had a vengeful husband to contend with—one who seemed willing to go to extreme lengths to maintain control.

"We need to go to the police station," I reminded Joan as we exited the hotel. "File that report about our follower this morning."

Joan nodded, already pulling out her phone to call another rideshare. "And then home to figure out how you’re going to charm the pants off Elite Group."

The police station was bustling when we arrived. We explained our situation to the desk sergeant, mentioning that we had called earlier from Madeleine’s Café but had to leave for an urgent meeting.

"We spoke with someone named Maddie there," I explained. "She was helping us."

The officer looked up as I spoke, his eyes widening with recognition. His professional demeanor momentarily slipped as he realized who was standing before him.

"Mrs. Ashton," he said, his tone shifting immediately. "Yes, of course. I saw your interview the other night." He straightened his posture, suddenly more attentive. "We have the initial report from the café. Did you get a good look at the individual following you?"

I could see officers at nearby desks glancing over, whispering to each other. My public airing of Liam’s infidelity had clearly made me instantly recognizable, even to law enforcement. ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom

I pulled out my phone, showing him the photos I’d managed to capture. "This is him. Mid-thirties, broad shoulders, there’s a scar along his jawline here," I pointed. "He was wearing sunglasses indoors, which made him stand out."

The officer studied the images with heightened concentration, clearly aware that he was dealing with someone prominent. "We’ll run these through our system immediately, Mrs. Ashton," he said, emphasizing my name slightly. "This will be handled with priority."

He looked up with a frown, his expression more concerned now. "In the meantime, you should be extremely careful. I imagine with everything happening in the media right now..." he trailed off, not needing to state the obvious about my public profile.

Joan and I exchanged glances. I decided on a partial truth. "As you probably know from the interview, I’m going through a contentious divorce with my husband. He’s... not taking it well. I’m concerned he might have hired someone to intimidate me."

The officer’s expression softened further as he noticed my heavily pregnant state, and I could see a flash of genuine sympathy. "I understand completely. We’ll take this very seriously, Mrs. Ashton. The department has experience with high-profile cases like yours." He lowered his voice slightly. "Is there somewhere secure you’re staying? Have you considered private security?"

"Yes," I assured him. "I have people with me, and we’ve taken precautions with our security."

We left our contact information with the officer, who promised to personally follow up with any developments. As we exited the station, I noticed several people turning to watch us leave, some pulling out phones, undoubtedly recognizing me from the viral interview.

"Let’s get you home," she said. "You need to rest after all this excitement."

I nodded, suddenly feeling the weight of the morning’s events. The escape from our follower, the high-stakes meeting with the board, the next challenge of securing the Elite contract—it was all catching up to me.

"One step at a time," I murmured, echoing Joan’s advice from last night. "One battle at a time."

But as our car pulled away from the police station, I couldn’t help but wonder if Liam already knew what I’d done—if he was already planning his next move against me. The board meeting had been a victory, but the war was far from over.

My hands cradled my belly, feeling the subtle movements of the twins inside. "We’re going to be okay," I whispered to them. "Mommy’s going to make sure of it."

We returned back to the restaurant, thanked Maddie for her support, as we took Joan’s car and headed home.

The car wound through the city streets, taking us back to the temporary safety of home. I felt something beyond anger and hurt. I felt powerful.