Mistress Joined the Meeting—Shock Hit When the Billionaire CEO Entered… She Was His Wife

The Throne of the Chairman

What he saw was a long mahogany table. Twelve serious-looking board members sat along the sides, their faces unreadable.

But at the head of the table, the CEO’s chair was turned away, facing the panoramic window that overlooked the city. The chair was high-backed leather, imposing.

Smoke from a thin cigarette curled up from the side of the chair.

“Gentlemen.” Marcus announced, his voice booming. “I am Marcus Thorne.” “I represent the acquisition team.” “I’m here to discuss the terms of your surrender.” He said.

The room was silent.

“You have a bold way of speaking, Mr. Thorne.” A voice came from the chair.

Marcus froze. The voice was low, modulated, authoritative, but it scratched at a memory in the back of his brain.

It sounded familiar, yet impossible.

“I speak the truth.” Marcus said, recovering his composure. “Vanguard Logic is stagnant.” “You need new blood.” “You need a leader who isn’t afraid of the future.” “I have looked at your financials; your ghost CEO strategy is failing.” “Investors want a face.” He said.

“They want a face?” The voice asked, amused.

“Yes.” “They want someone they can trust.” “Someone with a track record.” “Someone who doesn’t hide.” Marcus said.

Marcus walked closer to the table, Jessica clicking along behind him on her heels.

“Turn around.” “Let’s look each other in the eye and make a deal.” He said.

“Be careful what you wish for, Marcus.” The voice said.

The chair slowly began to swivel. Marcus prepared his winning smile.

He prepared his handshake. The chair completed its turn.

Marcus’s briefcase slipped from his sweating fingers and hit the floor with a loud thud. Jessica gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

Sitting there in a custom-tailored navy suit that cost more than Marcus’s annual salary, with diamonds glittering at her throat and a look of absolute terrifying calm on her face, was Clara. She crossed her legs.

She took a slow sip of sparkling water.

“Hello, husband.” She said.

For ten seconds, the only sound in the room was the hum of the air conditioning and the blood rushing in Marcus’s ears. His brain simply could not process the visual data.

Clara, his Clara, the woman who couldn’t figure out how to reset the Wi-Fi router.

“This, this is a joke.” Marcus stammered, his confident facade cracking like cheap glass.

He looked around at the board members.

“Is this a prank?” “Who hired her?” “Is she a stand-in?” He asked.

One of the board members, an older man with silver hair and a face carved from granite, stood up. This was Arthur Pendleton, one of the most feared corporate litigators in New York.

“Mr. Thorne.” Arthur said, his voice deep and resonant. “You are addressing Clara Sterling Vance.” “She is the majority shareholder and chairwoman of Vanguard Logic.” “She is also the daughter of the late Elias Sterling, the founder of this company.” “You would do well to show respect.” He said.

“Sterling.” Marcus whispered.

The name hit him like a physical blow. Elias Sterling was a legend, a titan of industry who had died five years ago, leaving his empire to an anonymous heir.

Marcus looked at Clara.

“You, you’re a Sterling.” He said.

“I am.” Clara said, her voice devoid of the warmth she usually reserved for him. “I dropped the name when I married you.” “I wanted to be loved for who I was, not for my billions.” “I wanted to see if a man could build a life with me, not my bank account.” She said.

She tilted her head, her eyes drilling into him.

“I got my answer this morning when you told me I dressed like a toilet cleaner.” She said.

Jessica, realizing the gravity of the situation, tried to back away toward the door, but the security guard blocked her path.

“And who is this?” Clara asked, shifting her gaze to Jessica. “The associate?”

Marcus’s throat was dry. He tried to pivot.

He was a salesman after all; he had to spin this.

“Clara, honey, look.” “This is, it’s a surprise.” “I brought her here to, to take notes.” “I had no idea you were involved in Vanguard.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” “We could have run this together; we’re a team.” He said.

Clara laughed; it was a cold, dark sound.

“A team, Marcus?” “Twenty minutes ago, you were telling this woman that you were going to leave me with a small condo so I wouldn’t starve.” “You called me a mouse.” She said.

She picked up a file folder from the table and tossed it toward him. It slid across the mahogany surface and stopped right at his edge.

“Open it.” She commanded.

Marcus opened the folder with trembling hands.

“That.” Clara said. “Is a forensic audit of your portfolio at your current firm.” “You see, Marcus, you didn’t just come here to buy Vanguard; you came here to save yourself.” “You’ve been embezzling from your own clients to fund your gambling debts and her.” She said, pointing a manicured finger at Jessica.

“That’s a lie!” Marcus shouted, sweat beading on his forehead. “Those are fabrications!”

“Are they?” Clara asked. “We have the bank transfers.” “We have the offshore accounts in the Caymans under the name Apex LLC.” “And guess who owns the bank in the Caymans where you hid the money?” She asked.

Marcus went pale.

“Vanguard Logic owns it.” Clara smiled. “I can see every penny you move.” “I’ve been watching you steal for two years, Marcus.” “I was just waiting for you to make a move against me.” She said.

The Unmasking

Jessica suddenly stepped forward, her survival instinct kicking in.

“I didn’t know!” She shrieked, looking at Clara. “He told me he was single, well, separated.” “He told me you were crazy.” “I’m just an employee.” She said.

Marcus whipped around, staring at his mistress.

“Shut up, Jessica!” He barked.

“No, you shut up!” Jessica yelled, turning on him. “I’m not going to jail for you!” “Mrs. Thorne, Mrs. Sterling, I can testify against him.” “He told me everything.” “He said he was going to hide assets during the divorce.” She said.

Clara watched the two of them turn on each other with a look of bored detachment.

“Arthur.” She said to her lawyer. “Please record everything Ms. Vance says; she might be useful now.”

Clara stood up. She was tall in her heels, imposing.

She walked around the table, approaching Marcus. He shrank back, expecting a slap.

Instead, she leaned in close, her voice a whisper that only he could hear.

“You wanted to merge with Vanguard, Marcus.” “You wanted to be inside the beast.” “Well, you’re here, but you’re not a partner.” “You’re the prey.” She said.

She turned to the board.

“Gentlemen, Mr. Thorne’s proposal to acquire us is rejected.” “Furthermore, as the majority shareholder of the firm he works for—yes, Marcus, I bought a controlling stake in your company three days ago—I am calling for an immediate vote on his employment.” She said.

She looked at the board members.

“All in favor of terminating Mr. Thorne for cause, gross negligence, and corporate espionage?” She asked.

Every hand in the room went up.

“Motion carried.” Clara said. “Marcus, you’re fired.” “Security, please escort Mr. Thorne and his associate out of the building.”

“Oh, and Marcus.” She added.

He looked up, broken, tears stinging his eyes.

“Don’t go home.” She said. “I changed the locks an hour ago, and I burned that gray silk tie.” “You never looked good in it anyway.” She said.