---- Chapter 6 The boardroom of the Edwards Corporation buzzed with a nervous energy. The stock price had been plummeting for weeks, the result of a sudden, aggressive, and masterfully executed hostile takeover bid by a mysterious holding company, H Corp. Brogan Edwards stood at the head of the table, looking like a shadow of his former self. His suit hung loosely on his frame, his face was gaunt, and dark circles underscored his haunted eyes. For months, he had been chasing a ghost, pouring all his energy into finding Grace, while his family's empire crumbled around him. "Who the hell is H Corp?" one of the board members demanded. "They came out of nowhere, and they're tearing us apart." "We're working on it," Brogan said, his voice weary. "Our sources say the principal is arriving today to finalize the deal." Just then, the double doors of the boardroom swung open. Geoffrey, his face pale, stepped inside. "Mr. Edwards... the representative from H Corp is here." All heads turned toward the door. ---- A woman walked in. She was breathtakingly beautiful, dressed in a sharp, custom -tailored suit that screamed power and wealth. Her hair was styled in a sleek, severe cut. Her face was framed by dark sunglasses. She moved with an icy confidence that commanded the attention of the entire room. Brogan stared at her, his heart suddenly hammering against his ribs. There was something familiar about her walk, about the line of her jaw. She stopped at the opposite end of the long table, directly facing him. With a slow, deliberate movement, she removed her sunglasses. The room fell silent. Brogan felt the air leave his lungs. He gripped the edge of the table to keep himself from collapsing. It was Grace. But it wasn't. The eyes were the same, but the warmth, the love, the trust he remembered were gone. They were now as cold and sharp as chips of ice. This was a stranger wearing his wife's face. "Grace?" he whispered, his voice cracking. She didn't react. Her expression remained a blank mask of cool indifference. ---- "| believe you know my name," she said, her voice smooth and low, a voice he had heard in his dreams every night for six months. "But for the purposes of this meeting, you will address me as Ms. Hutchinson." Hutchinson. The name meant nothing to him. "Grace, what is this?" he asked, taking a step toward her. "Where have you been? I've been looking everywhere for you." "We are here to discuss the acquisition of the Edwards Corporation by H Corp," she stated, ignoring his questions. She gestured to the chair at the head of the table. "Your chair, | believe. For now." The board members stared, their mouths agape, looking back and forth between the ghost at one end of the table and their broken CEO at the other. "| don't understand," Brogan said, his mind reeling. "This is some kind of joke. You're my wife. Come home, Grace. Please. We can fix this." He started to walk around the table toward her, his face a mess of confusion, relief, and desperation. "Everything that happened... | was wrong. I've been living in hell without you. We can start over." "There is no 'we'," she said, her voice cutting through his pleas like a shard of glass. She didn't move as he approached, her gaze unwavering. ---- He reached for her, his hand trembling. "Grace..." The moment his fingers brushed her arm, she recoiled as if she had been burned. "Do not touch me," she hissed, a flicker of pure hatred finally breaking through her icy composure. The venom in a her tone stopped him cold. "Our baby..." he stammered, his voice dropping to a desperate whisper. "The baby... is he... is he okay? Where is he?" For months, he had clung to a desperate hope that she had run away, that she had had their son in secret, that he could somehow find them and earn his way back. Grace's face, if possible, grew even colder. The mention of their son was the one thing that could still wound her, and the wound festered into a chilling rage. "You dare," she whispered, her voice trembling with suppressed fury. "You dare ask about him?" "| need to know, Grace," he begged. A bitter, humorless laugh escaped her lips. "You have no right to know anything. You have no right to even say his name." She looked him directly in the eye, and the full force of her hatred hit him. "You want to know about the baby?" she asked, her voice ---- dangerously soft. "Kennedy Sanford. Your loyal, grieving sister -in-law. Her water didn't break that day. She lied. She injected herself with a saline solution to fake it. All so her son could be born first. It was her plan all along." Brogan stared at her, his mind struggling to comprehend the words. Kennedy? Lying? "No..." he murmured. "She wouldn't." "She would," Grace snapped. "And you were too blinded by your own guilt and stupidity to see it. You chose to believe her lies over your own wife, who was bleeding and begging for your help." Tears welled in Brogan's eyes. "| know. I'm sorry, Grace. | was a fool." "You were more than a fool," she said, her voice rising. "You were an accomplice. You locked me in a steel box. You ignored my screams. You let your sadistic sister torture me. You told your own staff to let me die." She took a step closer to him, her eyes blazing. "You ask about our son?" she spat the words at him. "Our son is dead, Brogan. He died because of you. He is buried in a cold grave because his own father decided a business deal was more important than his life. You are his murderer." The word "murderer" hung in the silent room. It struck Brogan with more force than a physical blow. The desperate hope he ---- had nurtured for months was annihilated in an instant. Dead. Their son was truly dead. "No," he choked out, shaking his head in denial. "No. It can't be." "It is," she said, her voice devoid of any emotion now. "And so is our marriage. So is any feeling | ever had for you." She turned away from him, addressing the stunned board members. "H Corp now holds fifty-one percent of the voting shares of this company. As of this moment, | am in control. My first act as CEO is to remove Brogan Edwards from his position and from this board, effective immediately." She looked back at Brogan, his face a mask of shattered disbelief. "Security," she said, her voice ringing with newfound authority. "Escort Mr. Edwards from the premises. He is no longer welcome here." Two large security guards moved toward Brogan, who stood frozen, his world utterly destroyed. The woman he loved, the woman he had wronged so terribly, had returned from the dead only to become his executioner. "Grace, please," he begged one last time, his voice a pathetic whisper. "Don't do this." 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