My Billionaire Husband Beat Me With A Belt And Kicked Me Out Penniless For His Mistress, Unaware I Am The Secret Tycoon Who Owns His Entire Empire!

While Vanessa was being arrested for the second time in twenty-four hours on federal grand larceny charges, Adrian Cole was sitting in a high-security interview room after his family’s trust posted his multi-million-dollar bail.

He looked ten years older. His designer suit was wrinkled and stained, his eyes were bloodshot, and his hands shook uncontrollably as he gulped down lukewarm tap water from a paper cup.

His lead defense attorney, Arthur Vance (no relation to Julian), slammed his briefcase onto the steel table.

“Adrian, you are in catastrophic legal and financial jeopardy,” the attorney warned grimly. “The audio recording Eleanor provided is ironclad. It proves premeditation, malice, and felonious assault. The DA is offering no plea deals that do not involve at least seven to ten years in state prison.”

“I don't care about the criminal charges right now!” Adrian screamed, his voice cracking with madness. “What about Cole Meridian? Where is our stock trading?!”

Arthur looked at his client with deep pity. “Cole Meridian stock opened at forty-five dollars yesterday. It is currently trading at three dollars and twelve cents. The board of directors has called an emergency extraordinary shareholder meeting for two o’clock this afternoon. A hostile predator has acquired over sixty-five percent of our voting debt notes and executed a massive margin call.”

Adrian shot up from his chair, knocking the paper cup to the floor. “Sixty-five percent?! Who?! Who bought the debt?!”

“An entity called The Hartwell Strategic Trust,” Arthur said quietly. “They are demanding the immediate liquidation of your executive shares, your removal as CEO, and the total forfeiture of your family's founding voting rights.”

“No!” Adrian roared, slamming his fists onto the table. “That company has my family’s name on the building! My grandfather founded Cole Meridian! I will not let Eleanor take it from me!”

“You don’t have a choice, Adrian,” Arthur said. “Under the corporate charter, any shareholder holding more than sixty percent of senior secured voting debt during an event of technical default has the legal right to seize executive control.”

“Get my car!” Adrian snarled, his eyes burning with frantic desperation. “Take me to the headquarters right now! I am the Chairman! I will face the board myself!”

At one-forty-five in the afternoon, Adrian arrived at the Cole Meridian headquarters.

The building was surrounded by hundreds of journalists, stock analysts, and angry retail investors holding protest signs demanding accountability for the collapsed stock.

Adrian covered his face with his jacket, pushing through the hostile mob with the help of his private bodyguards, and took the private elevator to the sixty-fifth floor.

When he stepped out into the executive foyer, he found the entire board of directors standing outside the locked boardroom doors.

“Why are you all standing out here?” Adrian demanded, adjusting his crooked collar. “Open the doors! We need to vote on an emergency poison pill defense!”

Frank Sterling, the CFO, looked at Adrian with pure disgust.

“It’s too late for a poison pill, Adrian,” Frank said coldly. “The majority shareholder is already inside. She has already assumed the chair.”