Baron Edgar stood before Augusta. She stared at him, her face covered in fear. The ghost she thought she had successfully locked away was standing before her, in the flesh, poised to destroy everything she had built.
"F...Father," she stamred, her voice a weak, trembling sound that was nothing like her usual confident tone. "How d...did you..." Her words died in her throat as her eyes shifted and she noticed the calm, composed figure standing just behind the Baron. "Mr. Prescott?" she said, the na a question, a plea, and an accusation all at once. The shock of seeing her own aide, her trusted informant, one of the people who was supposed to be her ally , standing beside her enemy was a betrayal so profound it montarily overshadowed even her fear of the Baron.
She whispered, the shock still evident on her face. " You are the mole." Her eyes widened with the realization.
Prescott, unmoved by her shock and words, simply offered her a small, polite smile and a slight bow of his head. The gesture was impeccably correct, and yet it was the most insolent act he could have perford. It was a formal declaration of his new allegiance.
Augusta’s mind reeled. She swallowed hard, trying to regain so semblance of control, to bluff her way out of the collapsing ruin of her plan. She cleared her throat and drew herself up, forcing a cold authority back into her voice. "Father, you have no right to weigh in on managent anymore," she declared, looking not at him but at the stunned advisors. "This is a formal eting. If anyone else interferes, I will have them..."
"What do you an I have no right?" Edgar interrupted, his voice booming through the room, silencing her instantly. He took a slow, deliberate step forward, his eyes burning with a cold fire. "Oh, is it because I’m mad?" he asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He raised a trembling but steady hand and pointed a long, accusatory finger directly at her. "That was the lie YOU told!"
The public accusation struck Augusta. She flinched, taking a small step back. The senior advisors, who had been sitting in stunned silence, now turned to look at her, their faces grim.
"Baroness, what is the aning of this?" Lord Ashworth demanded, his voice stern.
The room erupted in a chaotic buzz of murmurs. "What happened?" one investor whispered loudly to another. "Did she lie about his health?" another asked. "How could she do this?"
Augusta’s face was pale, but she clung to the last shred of her authority. "What do you an by lies I told?" she shot back at Edgar, her voice becoming shrill. "There is proof of your condition! It is already verified by a doctor’s assessnt."
Edgar let out a short, harsh laugh that held no humor. "Proof?" he echoed, his voice filled with contempt. "How can a dical assessnt be verified when the patient wasn’t even there? I have not seen a doctor for this supposed condition in my life!"
Augusta was silent. She had no answer. Her lie had been completely and utterly exposed.
Edgar turned his attention from his defeated daughter-in-law to the rest of the individuals seated at the long table.
"Everyone," he announced, his voice ringing with power and clarity. "I, Edgar Ellington, will be eting with a team of reputable doctors very soon to clear the air on my health. Then, when this fraudulent conservatorship is terminated, all of my assets will be returned to my control."
Lord Ashworth leaned forward. "Baron Edgar, does that an you will be returning to managent?" It was the question on everyone’s mind.
Edgar shook his head. "Well, not exactly."
Lord Reginald, another senior advisor, looked shocked. "Why?"
Edgar faced everyone, his expression serious and resolved. He let his gaze fall upon Delia, a look of profound love and pride in his eyes. "I will be turning everything that belongs to —my shares, my properties, my voting rights as the majority shareholder..." he continued, his voice resonating with his final decision, "over to my eldest granddaughter, Delia."
If the room had been buzzing before, it was now a roaring tempest. The announcent was so bizarre, so completely unexpected, that it sent a shockwave through the conservative assembly. n turned to each other, their faces a mixture of disbelief and disapproval. Side talks erupted everywhere.
Lord Ashworth stood up, his face flushed. "Baron, with all due respect, you are handling over the entire managent of Ellington Textiles to your granddaughter? But she has never contributed to the establishnt! She has no experience in managent, in trade, in anything!"
A small, triumphant smile began to plaster itself across Augusta’s face. She saw a glimr of hope. The old fools, with their rigid traditions and fear of change, would never approve of Delia. They would fight this. She could still use their prejudice to her advantage.
"That too," Lord Ashworth continued, ready to list his many objections to such an insane proposal, "she is a woman, and an inexperienced one at that..."
"May I speak?"
A new voice, polite but firm, cut cleanly through the noise. Everyone fell quiet. All heads turned toward the source.
Delia stood up. Her posture was straight, her expression calm and composed. She had let her grandfather fight the battle to clear his na. Now, it was her turn to fight for her future.
She looked at Lord Ashworth, at the other advisors, and at the entire room.
"Everyone," she began, her voice steady and clear. "Why do you assu that as a family mber, and now as the largest shareholder, I would want to participate in the day-to-day managent of this company?"
Augusta’s smile faded instantly. The question was not what she, or anyone, had expected. It wasn’t a plea for acceptance or a promise to work hard. Her expression was quickly replaced by a look of confused suspicion. What was the girl planning now? She thought to herself. The room was silent once more, waiting to hear what she would say next.
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