The grand press conference hall was filled with the incessant CLICKING of cara flashes, yet no one dared to utter a word. All eyes were on the man in black seated at the head of the table, waiting for him to speak. He had a gentle, refined face, but his eyes, which concealed a sharp and dangerous light, were enough to make one shudder with fear.
Everyone knew he was the current leader of The Shaw Dominion, the largest power in The Argent Triangle Area. He was the son-in-law of the previous leader, Ian Shaw, and the husband of the Shaw family’s Naomi Shaw. Everyone also knew that The Shaw Dominion, once an obscure entity, had grown so rapidly to its current zenith entirely because of him.
He leaned back with a languid air and gestured to the assistant beside him with a slight lift of his hand. The assistant imdiately stood up and began to read from a prepared statent: "After four years of marriage, Miss Naomi Shaw and Mr. Julian Donovan have, by mutual agreent, decided to divorce, as their feelings for one another have faded over ti while both parties focused on their respective careers!"
Shocked gasps rippled through the audience. Everyone knew Naomi Shaw had no career. And everyone knew he did not love her.
The assistant continued to read:
"As Miss Shaw knows very little about corporate affairs and is, in her own words, ’rely a woman,’ she wishes to make the following statent: I, Naomi Shaw, willingly cede my 50% stake in the company to our son, Dylan Donovan. However, as our son is still a minor, this stake will be temporarily managed by Mr. Donovan. Henceforth, Mr. Donovan will be the company’s largest shareholder. I also unconditionally consent to Mr. Donovan officially renaming the company the Donovan Group, for that is what he has rightfully earned!"
"On what grounds! It’s bad enough that Naomi is giving you her shares, but what right do you have to change the na!"
"That’s right, we object! Where’s Naomi? Get Naomi out here to speak for herself!"
So of the Shaw Family elders stood up in protest, their faces flush with anger. The assistant held the signed statent up for the reporters’ caras.
"Ladies and gentlen, this is the statent, personally signed by Miss Shaw. It’s here in black and white; there is no room for objection!"
Amid the growing clamor, the man at the head of the table abruptly rose to his feet. His eyes, sharp as a falcon’s, swept across the entire room.
"Any who object will be killed without question!"
He left them with only that single, chilling statent before turning and striding away.
"I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, Dylan. It’s all Mommy’s fault. Mommy doesn’t have the courage to stay here any longer... but Mommy can’t provide you with a good life, either. That’s why I have to leave you here. When you grow up, if you still rember ... co and find . If you hate ... then just forget your mother ever existed."
In a child’s room filled with toys, a graceful woman, dressed to leave with a suitcase by her side, held the little boy sleeping soundly in his bed. Tears stread down her face as she kissed him again and again, whispering apologies over and over.
The sleeping boy was handso, with delicate features. There was a hint of her in his eyes and brow, but for the most part, he was the spitting image of his father. ’That cold, cunning, controlling man... The man she had loved to the point of madness. The man who had shattered her heart, forcing her to finally let go and walk away.’
She lost count of how many tis she lingered to kiss him, unwilling to part. She lost count of how many tis she walked to the door, only to run back, crying in anguish. It wasn’t until she heard a voice from the television in the other room announce that the press conference was concluding that she finally forced herself up, grabbed her suitcase, and bolted out the door.
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