Three days passed before tension settled thickly over the boardroom at Walsh Group's headquarters.

A weary sigh escaped Nigel Walsh as he addressed the room. He sat at the head of the table in a sapphire-blue suit, wearing the expression of a man weighed down by responsibility. "Everyone here has reviewed this quarter's performance," he said. "From where I stand, the smartest move is to stop the bleeding and sell the subsidiaries that are dragging us down while we still have the chance."

By blood, Nigel was Corinna and Liam's uncle, the younger brother of their late father.

Business had never been Liam's ambition. After Corinna vanished and their parents passed away, no one remained to stand in Nigel's way, and he stepped into control of Walsh Group.

Running the company, however, proved far beyond his ability. Under his leadership, the company declined year after year. Profits shrank. Multiple subsidiaries slipped deep into losses. Eventually, unloading companies became his default answer to every crisis.

At the mention of another sale, Robert Wells, a man who had stood beside Corinna's father since the beginning, rose abruptly from his seat and struck the table with his palm. "Nigel Walsh!" he shouted. "Do you really intend to destroy everything your brother spent his life building?"

Irritation hardened Nigel's expression. "My brother is gone," he replied coldly. "Walsh Group belongs to me now."

Leaning closer to the table, he raised his voice. "If I decide we sell, then that is exactly what will happen."

Anger made Robert's breathing uneven as he prepared to fire back, but a calm female voice sliced through the tension and brought the room to a halt. "I disagree!"

Before anyone could react, the boardroom doors burst open under a forceful kick.

A formation of bodyguards dressed in black suits poured inside, silent and efficient. With trained coordination, they spread out and positioned themselves along the walls.

Only after that did she appear. The sharp sound of stilettos echoed across the floor as she walked in at an unhurried pace. A tailored red dress traced her figure, her long hair swept neatly back, and dark sunglasses concealed her eyes. What remained visible was an elegant nose and lips tinted a deep rose.

Power followed her every step, blending striking beauty with unmistakable authority.

Whispers traveled quickly around the table.

"Who is she?"

"How did she get past security?"

Fury exploded across Nigel's face as he slammed his palm down. "Who the hell do you think you are? Where's the security? Get her out of here. Now!"

With an unhurried motion, the woman raised her hand and slid her sunglasses off. Clear, piercing eyes locked onto Nigel as a faint smile touched her lips. "Uncle Nigel, do I really look that unfamiliar to you?" she asked lightly.

Shock stiffened Nigel's body. His eyes widened, and his hands began to shake. "You-you're still alive?"

Years ago, he had orchestrated the kidnapping and the explosion. She was never meant to survive.

A chill crept into Corinna's smile. "Were you hoping I wouldn't be?"

Forcing air into his lungs, Nigel struggled to regain control. "No. I was just… caught off guard," he said stiffly.

Calm yet dangerous, Corinna shifted her gaze toward the table. "I heard you discussing the sale of my parents' subsidiaries."

Another sigh escaped him. "Those companies have been hemorrhaging money for years. Selling them would stabilize our finances. Everything I've done is for Walsh Group's benefit."

A sharp gleam flashed through Corinna's eyes. "My parents built this company into something strong and profitable. So explain to me why it began to rot the moment you took control."

Color drained from Nigel's face.

Before he could retort, Corinna spoke with quiet authority. "If you are incapable of running it, then step aside and give it back to me." Her smile remained soft, but her voice carried unshakable resolve. "I will succeed where you failed."

Rage burst out of Nigel as he slammed his fist against the table. "What could you possibly understand about managing a corporation? I've sacrificed everything for Walsh Group. Everyone sitting here knows exactly how much I've given. And now you suddenly appear and think you can force me out? Keep dreaming!"

A quiet, scornful chuckle slipped from Corinna. "So this is what you call contribution?" she asked coldly.

Behind him, the massive LED screen flickered to life, and years of concealed misconduct filled the display in stark detail.

"Sixty million siphoned from company accounts for your personal use," Corinna said, her tone precise and unforgiving. She continued without pause, "Nepotistic hires. Illicit kickbacks approved under your watch. Inferior materials were swapped in to cut costs, followed by endless customer complaints. And throughout your tenure, profits collapsed year after year." Her eyes were fixed on him. "Is this what you mean by sacrificing everything for Walsh Group?"

Business had never been Liam's priority. His only focus had been on finding his missing sister, which was why he allowed Nigel to run the company without interference.

The moment Corinna stepped back into this world, she sensed that something was wrong. She quietly contacted her network and began uncovering Nigel's history. Within three days, the truth lay fully exposed.

Once her words landed, chaos erupted throughout the boardroom.

"No wonder those subsidiaries keep losing money. So this is what you've really been doing!"

Another shareholder leaned forward, anger sharp in his tone. "Our dividends have fallen year after year because you were filling your own pockets," he said. "That money should have gone to all of us, yet you spent it on yourself. How do you even dare to claim this was for the company?"

Under the pressure, Nigel's calm finally shattered. He tried to steady his expression, but fear had already crept into his voice. "This is all fabricated! Every bit of it is fake. She planted these lies."

Turning sharply, he pointed at Corinna. "Corinna, I'm your uncle. How could you accuse your own family like this?"

Not a single change crossed her face. Corinna answered with a voice that was cold, precise, and unforgiving, "The proof of your embezzlement, along with evidence tied to what happened to my parents and to me, has already been submitted to the authorities. Whether it is slander or not will be decided by the police."

Holding his gaze without flinching, she continued, "You can keep shouting here if you want, or you can surrender yourself. That is the only choice that might lessen what comes next."

Desperation drove Nigel forward as he planted both hands on the table, his eyes burning with panic. "I did nothing wrong! All of this is slander!"

Panic pushed his voice into a shrill pitch. "You're setting me up because you want my position. You want the CEO chair!"

An indifferent look met his accusation. Corinna responded with nothing more than a glance before raising her hand in a relaxed motion. At once, her bodyguards stepped forward. They gripped Nigel's arms and yanked him to his feet, dragging him toward the exit.

"Release me! I'm the CEO!" he shouted, thrashing wildly.

Unmoved by his struggle, the guards continued without pause. They pulled him from the boardroom, and his shouting echoed down the corridor until the doors closed and silence settled at last.

Only after that did Corinna move to the seat at the head of the table. She lifted her eyes and surveyed the board members one by one, her demeanor composed and authoritative. "This company was built by my parents," she said evenly. "As their legal successor, all of their shares belong to me, which makes me the largest shareholder of Walsh Group."

After a measured pause, she delivered the final word. "Effective immediately, I will be assuming full control of the company."

Inside the CEO's office at Spencer Group, Vincent cut the call the instant it went straight to voicemail. A crease formed between his brows as irritation sank deeper, dark and unsettled.

The block was still there.

Seven full days had gone by, and Corinna had disappeared as if she had never existed. Since their marriage, she had never stayed out of his reach for this long.

Back then, regardless of how distant he was, she would always edge closer. Even when his words were sharp, she stayed nearby with cautious hope, eyes gentle, lingering beside him desperate for approval.

This time, she had left with another man.

The audacity of it made his expression turn cold.

Calling his assistant in, Vincent spoke without preamble. "Have you located Corinna?"

Tension tightened the assistant's voice as he answered, "No. There's nothing left to trace. Someone used advanced methods to completely erase her records."

A sharp chill settled into the room as Vincent's jaw locked.

After a brief hesitation, the assistant added, "There's more. The Walsh family's heiress has resurfaced."

Surprise flickered across Vincent's face. "Didn't she die three years ago?"

With careful detail, the assistant laid out everything he had uncovered. "Following the explosion, she vanished completely. For three years, no one could find her, and most people believed she was dead. Then she appeared at the shareholder meeting. The moment she returned, she overturned her uncle Nigel's decisions and revealed years' worth of evidence proving his embezzlement. He was forced to relinquish control to her. Since then, she's been restructuring the group's internal systems, and by all accounts, the results have been impressive."

Against the surface of the desk, Vincent's long fingers tapped once, then again. "Decisive."

It was the first time the assistant had ever heard approval in Vincent's voice. He straightened immediately. "We previously partnered with Walsh Group. But once Nigel took charge, several projects were put on hold because of quality issues and cost-cutting. Now that the new CEO has stepped in… should we revive that collaboration?"

Nothing about Vincent's expression gave him away. When he spoke, his tone was calm, steady, and firm. "Arrange a meeting with her. I want to negotiate face-to-face."

Market demand in the city of Kiepwell was massive, and expansion there promised substantial returns. Among all possible partners, only Walsh Group had the capacity to take on those projects without collapsing under the weight.

After the assistant left, Vincent remained seated, staring at the piles of documents spread across his desk, unable to absorb a single line on the page.

Restlessness had taken hold of him ever since Corinna walked away, leaving him wound tight with an unnamed pressure that refused to loosen its grip on his chest. She had always followed his lead, always given him her loyalty, yet she had thrown divorce papers at him and vanished with some unknown man.

Could everything she once showed him have been nothing more than an act?

Until his signature touched that agreement, she remained his wife. He had no intention of letting her slip free so easily, as if she had never belonged in his life, or fall into another man's arms without consequence. No distance would be far enough to keep her hidden from him.

In frustration, Vincent tugged loose his tie, poured himself a glass of vodka, and downed it in one harsh swallow. Fire scorched his throat, and the tension refused to ease, only stoking the heat already coursing through his veins.

Redness ringed his eyes when the assistant reappeared without warning.

"Mr. Spencer, the news about you and Ms. Palmer is spreading everywhere online," the assistant said carefully. After a brief pause, he added, "You may want to see it for yourself."

A frown creased Vincent's brow as he opened the link that was sent to him, and his expression grew darker with each passing second.

"CEO Vincent Spencer's Intimate Getaway with Margot Palmer Fuels Divorce and Reunion Rumors."

Beneath the bold headline sat a series of crisp, high-definition images.

Each photo showed Vincent in a sleek black suit, standing close to a woman with gentle features and immaculate makeup. As he leaned toward her, the sharpness that usually defined his expression faded into something unexpectedly gentle. Whatever he said made her lower her gaze and smile shyly, her lips curved with quiet sweetness.

Once the article spread across social media, the reaction exploded instantly.

"I heard Vincent and Margot were childhood sweethearts. Of course, he never moved on."

"Let's be real. His wife is just an orphan. If he hadn't been in a coma and she hadn't lucked into it, there's no way she would've married him. She was never worthy of him."

"Exactly. Margot is the real deal. She's a piano prodigy, practically nobility in the classical music world. That other woman is just baggage. They should've divorced a long time ago."

Tension locked Vincent's jaw as fury darkened his gaze, and the atmosphere around him turned cold.

"Take it all down," he said flatly. "Every last bit. I want it gone within the hour."

"Understood, sir."

Hardly had the assistant stepped out when Vincent's phone rang. Dorothy's voice came through crisp and authoritative. "Come home immediately. I need to speak with you."

Fatigue throbbed behind his eyes as he pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. Without delay, he took his coat, left the office, and drove straight back home.

......

The moment he arrived, Dorothy hurled a stack of newspapers against his chest and launched into him. "Look at the chaos you've caused. Do you have any idea what people are saying about you?"

Anger flared in her eyes as she continued, "Heartless. Unfaithful. Abandoning your wife while you parade around with another woman. Is this truly the man I raised?"

Scanning the headlines, Vincent recognized the names instantly. Sensational tabloids and gossip sheets, the kind that fed on exaggeration and scandal. Keeping his tone steady, he replied, "Grandma, please calm down. Getting upset will only harm your health. None of this is proven. They're chasing attention, so they're twisting the story. I already have people dealing with it."

Dorothy's expression softened only slightly, though her sternness remained. "Rumor or not, they still needed something to work with. Give them a single photograph, and they'll invent an entire story. Where there's even a hint of smoke, people assume a fire."

Keeping his voice even, Vincent said, "Margot was swarmed by overzealous fans when she returned. She reached out to me for assistance, and I helped her. That's all there was. Nothing more."

Suspicion creased Dorothy's brow. "Does she not have relatives or friends she could rely on?" she asked. "Why did she turn to you instead? I don't believe she's as harmless as she pretends to be."

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she continued, "When you were lying unconscious, the doctors warned you might never recover. Margot didn't hesitate to leave the country, claiming she was pursuing her dream. Now you're well again, and our family business is thriving, and suddenly she rushes back. Her motives are painfully clear. I would never accept a woman like that into this family."

A muscle jumped in Vincent's jaw. "I understand the situation," he said firmly.

"Good." After letting out a breath, Dorothy's eyes sharpened as her thoughts shifted. "Where is Cora? Why didn't she come back with you?"

Without waiting for his response, concern softened her tone. "After seeing all this, she must be hurt. When you return, you need to explain everything to her properly."

At the sound of Corinna's name, Vincent's expression turned dark, his jaw locking tight. "She's gone."

Disbelief flashed across Dorothy's face. "What did you just say?"

Trying to steady her, Vincent spoke gently. "Grandma, please don't get upset." He then recounted everything that had happened, from beginning to end.

Anger and regret tangled across Dorothy's face, directed both at him and at herself for realizing it too late. "Cora has been your wife for three years. While you lay in a coma, she was the one bathing you, rubbing life back into your muscles, helping with rehabilitation again and again. No one in that house cared for you the way she did."

Rising emotion sharpened her words until they cut without mercy. She continued, "She stayed loyal. She stayed devoted. She endured every slight in silence. Your mother treated her like she was worthless, and she never once came to you to complain. When I injured my ankle and was hospitalized, she refused to leave my side, day and night. When my headaches worsened, she taught herself proper massage techniques and treated me personally, better than any specialist I paid. She may not have parents left, but she is a good woman. A good wife. How could you possibly treat her this way?"

A memory surfaced in Vincent's mind, unbidden. At the start of their marriage, Corinna had been fragile and uncertain, stripped of her memories and wary of everyone like a startled animal.

One exception had existed.

Even while unconscious, he had drifted in and out of awareness. During those moments, he could hear her voice nearby, sitting close, speaking in hushed tones as though the rest of the world had vanished and only the two of them remained.

"Vincent, everyone says you used to be amazing before this happened. You shouldn't be trapped like this. You have to recover. Please."

Something about her gentle, almost sugary tone soothed him far more than it had any right to.

Coldness entered Dorothy's voice. "Cora is the only granddaughter-in-law I will ever acknowledge. As for anyone else, don't even let the thought cross your mind." Her gaze locked onto him without mercy. "You are bringing her back."

Vincent nodded and said, "I will."

......

Elsewhere within the Walsh estate, urgency cut through the air as Liam moved to Corinna's side, his expression calm but deadly. "Cora, you're getting dragged online."

Without a word, Corinna unlocked her phone. Every platform was flooded with the story, picking apart her, Vincent, Liam, and Margot with cruel enthusiasm.

The comment sections were vile. Mockery poured over her name, while strangers praised Vincent and Margot, rewriting them into a romantic legend of childhood sweethearts. In their narrative, Corinna, the lawful wife, had been recast as a greedy intruder chasing money and status, the villain standing in the way of a so-called destined love.

Corinna was just about to erase everything herself when the page refreshed.

What greeted her was emptiness. The posts were gone, and so were the accounts that had fueled them, erased one by one as if they had never existed.

That had to be Liam's doing, she figured.

Still, removal did not mean resolution.

Her tone was flat and determined. "This isn't over. Whoever did this is going to pay."

From the sofa, she picked up a tablet, tapped the screen twice, and logged into an account marked by a black avatar.

The handle displayed a single name—King.

Code streamed across the screen as her fingers moved with practiced speed.

Tracing the trail took only moments. The source led straight to Margot.

After gathering everything—money transfers, private messages, direct instructions—Corinna organized the evidence and released it online, exposing how Margot had paid trolls to drag her name through the mud.

She did not stop there. She retrieved the call log from the day of the accident, the one where she had reached out to Vincent for help and heard, unmistakably, what he was doing with Margot on the other end, and she released that as well. The recording went up beneath headlines that were blunt and merciless.

"Vincent Spencer Exposed for Infidelity—Wife Calls After Car Crash and Hears Him in Bed with Another Woman."

"Paid Smear Campaign Revealed as Mistress Tries to Replace the Wife—Can It Get Any More Disgusting?"

Through channels she understood better than anyone, Corinna forced the posts straight into the heart of the algorithm until it flooded timelines everywhere.

This time, the backlash was uncontrollable. Traffic surged so violently that the platform lagged and stuttered, teetering on the edge of collapse.