Chapter 15 - The Sister's Vote
Vanessa looked at me.
Then at Marcus.
Then at the directors.
"I vote to retain Amelia Sinclair."
The chairman blinked.
"You're certain?"
"Yes."
"Ms. Sinclair, your pending claim—"
"I'm withdrawing it."
Charles's attorneys reacted immediately.
Vanessa ignored them.
"My father never wanted me to take this company."
She looked toward Victoria, who watched remotely from the hospital.
"I spent years believing I had been robbed."
Her voice shook.
"I was robbed."
She paused.
"But not by Amelia."
For the first time, I saw the woman beneath everything she had done.
Damaged.
Angry.
Still responsible.
But human.
The motion failed.
I remained controlling executive.
Marcus resigned effective immediately.
When the meeting ended, he didn't wait for me.
He placed his access badge on the table and walked out.
No speech.
No dramatic goodbye.
I watched the doors close.
Then I went back to work.
Sinclair Hospitality was still near collapse.
We had forty-eight hours before several lenders could seize collateral.
Samuel discovered that Charles controlled portions of our debt through five shell companies.
His arrest did not invalidate those contracts.
We needed cash.
A lot of it.
Victoria offered her shares as collateral.
Vanessa offered hers too.
It wasn't enough.
Then Edwin Mercer arrived.
Still pale from his injuries.
He placed a folder on the table.
"Thomas prepared for this."
I stood.
"My uncle."
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
Edwin looked toward Victoria and Vanessa.
"He wants to see his daughters first."
Vanessa began crying silently.
Victoria joined the meeting by video.
Her face crumpled.
"He's alive?"
Edwin nodded.
"He has been living under protection in Canada for twenty-nine years."
"Why didn't he contact us?"
"He tried."
Edwin looked ashamed.
"Charles intercepted letters."
Vanessa covered her mouth.
Her entire life had been built from stolen messages.
Edwin opened the folder.
Thomas Sinclair had created an independent investment trust decades earlier.
It contained assets worth nearly two billion dollars.
Enough to save Sinclair Hospitality.
"But there's a condition."
I almost smiled.
Sinclair men apparently loved conditions.
"What?"
Edwin read from the document.
The funds could be released only upon unanimous consent of Richard Sinclair's direct heir and Thomas Sinclair's surviving heirs.
Me.
Victoria.
Vanessa.
Three women who had spent years separated by lies.
We signed.
The emergency funds restored lender confidence.
Credit lines reopened.
Hotels stayed operational.
For the first time in days, I allowed myself to breathe.
Then Samuel received a message.
His expression changed.
"What now?"
He looked at me.
"Federal investigators found another Blue Meridian account."
"Charles?"
"No."
"Whose?"
He turned the screen toward me.
The account beneficiary was listed as M. Vale.
Marcus Vale.
Forty-three million dollars.
I stared at the number.
Vanessa whispered, "That's impossible."
May you like
I wanted to believe her.
But eleven years of marriage had already taught me what belief could cost.
