Chapter 8
Meredith looked at Ethan, tracing the lines of his handsome, arrogant face one last time. She remembered the man she thought she had married, and contrasted him with the man who had just told her to leave her keys and walk away with nothing.
"We were," Meredith said softly. "But you wanted to play a different game. You just didn't realize I was holding all the cards."
She slipped into the luxurious leather backseat of the Maybach.
"Take the rest of my things to the penthouse, please, Marcus," Meredith told the driver, pointing to the scattered suitcases and coats.
"Right away, Mrs. Rowe," the driver said, shooting a glaring look at Ethan and his family before quickly gathering the luggage.
Inside the quiet, climate-controlled cabin of the car, Meredith put the cracked phone to her ear. "Graham, are the board members assembled?"
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"They are waiting in the main conference room, Meredith," Graham answered, his voice a comforting anchor in the storm. "They are... anxious."
"Good. Let them sweat," she replied, staring out the tinted window as the car began to slowly roll down the long, winding driveway. She watched Ethan, Judith, and Vanessa standing on the marble steps—three wealthy, powerful people who had just been reduced to absolute ruins in the span of five minutes.
