I Caught My Groom Cheating on Our Wedding Night While 7 Months Pregnant—He Laughed That I Was Trapped Until He Read Page 78 of Our Prenup

Chiến dịch 7

The boardroom remained dead silent as the federal agents escorted Vanessa Cole through the heavy glass doors. Her designer heels clicked erratically against the polished floor, the sound echoing until the elevator chimed in the distance, carrying her away.

She didn't look at Daniel as she left. She didn't look at me. She kept her head down, clutching her purse to her chest like a shield, her carefully cultivated aura of ruthless power shattered into a thousand pieces.

Daniel stood by the sideboard, his mouth open, his skin the color of curdled milk.

He looked around the table at the men who had spent years laughing at his jokes, approving his bonuses, and treating him like the crowned prince of Chicago logistics. Not one of them would meet his eyes. Some stared down at their notebooks; others looked out the panoramic windows at the cloudy skyline.

"Emily," Daniel choked out, his voice cracked and hollow. "Emily, please... we have to talk. Privately."

"There is nothing private left between us, Daniel," I said, standing up slowly.

My lower back ached from the tension of the morning, and I felt a faint, rhythmic tightening across my abdomen—Braxton Hicks contractions brought on by the stress. Dr. Morrison immediately stepped up beside me, placing two fingers on my wrist to check my pulse.

"Ten minutes, Emily," Dr. Morrison murmured under her breath. "Then we are going back to the suite."

I nodded slightly, keeping my focus locked on Daniel.

"You signed away the company's core software to your mistress to spite a prenuptial agreement," I told him, each word landing like a hammer blow. "You compromised the livelihoods of four hundred people because you were so terrified I might leave with a portion of your wealth that you handed your entire empire to a thief."

"I was trying to protect our family!" Daniel cried out desperately, taking a step toward the table. "I thought... Vanessa said it was a standard asset shelter! I did it for us!"

A bitter laugh escaped my throat. "You did it for yourself. Just like you spent fourteen months sleeping with her for yourself. You never thought about me. And you certainly never thought about our daughter."

Daniel’s expression twisted into something ugly and desperate. "You can't do this to me. My father built this company. My family name is on the front of the building!"

"And your family name was kept afloat by my grandfather's money for five years," I replied. "Marcus, read the board resolution."

Marcus Vance stepped forward, holding a fresh legal document.

"Pursuant to Article 4, Section 2 of the amended corporate bylaws," Marcus announced, addressing the board, "Halston Capital, as majority voting shareholder, moves to accept the immediate termination of Daniel Bennett from all executive, advisory, and director roles within Bennett Enterprises, effective immediately. All stock options granted under his executive contract are forfeited under the gross negligence clause. Furthermore, his access to corporate accounts, private aviation, and company-owned properties—including the Gold Coast townhouse—is revoked as of twelve noon."

"Seconded," the senior director at the far end of the table said without a second's hesitation.

"All in favor?" Marcus asked.

Every single hand around that table went up. Seven hands. Unanimous.

Daniel stared at the raised hands in utter disbelief. "Arthur? Robert? You've known me since I was twelve years old! You came to my high school graduation!"

"We came to your wedding last night, Daniel," Arthur, the oldest director, replied quietly, his voice heavy with disgust. "And you disgraced your family before the champagne was even cold. Sign the papers and leave. Don't make them call building security to throw you into the street."

Daniel looked down at the table. His shoulders slumped, the fight finally draining out of him, leaving only the pathetic shell of an overgrown boy who had never faced a real consequence in his entire life.

Marcus placed the resignation documents in front of him, along with a heavy Montblanc pen.

Daniel’s hand shook so violently that the pen rattled against the mahogany before he pressed it to the paper. He signed his name three times.

When he finished, he looked up at me, tears of pure self-pity brimming in his eyes.

"Where am I supposed to go, Emily?" he whispered. "The townhouse is locked. My personal accounts are tied to the corporate facility. I don't have anything."

"You have the Blackwell Hotel suite," I said coldly. "Check-out is at one o'clock. I suggest you pack your bags before they charge your personal credit card for another night."

I turned away from him and looked at Marcus. "Adjourn the meeting. I need to lie down."

Dr. Morrison took my arm, guiding me gently toward the private executive elevator. As the doors slid shut, cutting off the sight of Daniel Bennett standing alone in the ruins of his unearned kingdom, the tight band around my chest finally loosened.

We rode down to the secure basement garage in silence. But as we stepped into the waiting Suburban, a sharp, stabbing cramp ripped across my lower abdomen, taking my breath away.

I gasped, doubling over, clutching my stomach with both hands.

"Emily!" Dr. Morrison cried out, instantly reaching for her medical bag. "Where is the pain?"

"Low," I gasped, sweat suddenly beading across my forehead as the pressure mounted. "Marcus... the baby..."