Chapter 85
Mirabelle’s POV:
The board’s spokesman, a middle-aged man named Mr. Jenson, cleared his throat. “Mrs. Sylvester, we’ve received evidence that you’ve been involved in illegal activities-both abroad and here. It’s alleged that you’ve been acquiring shares and companies through illegal means.”
“That’s absurd!” I exclaimed.
“There’s evidence, Mrs Sylvester. Enough evidence to back up the rumors.” Mr. Jenson countered.
Sighing, I asked. “What evidence could you possibly have?”
A woman at the table tossed an envelope toward me. “See for yourself.”
I opened it, my stomach twisting as I pulled out photographs and documents of call recordings.
The documents showed threats of violence, coercion, even blackmail involving a child.
“This is ridiculous!’ I exclaimed sharply.”These are all fabricated, these are all lies meant to discredit me. Who is responsible for this madness?” I said, slamming the papers on the table. “Someone is framing me.”
“Mrs. Sylvester.” Mr. Jenson began. “Several members of this board have come forward with troubling accounts of your methods in acquiring shares. Do you still wish to deny the truth?”
I stiffened in my seat, keeping my face calm. “I would care to see the evidence first, Mr. Jenson.”
“You can deny it all you want.” A woman near the end of the table said. “But I know what you did to me.”
I turned to her, raising a brow. “Oh? And what exactly did I do, Mrs. Patel?”
She stood, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Last year, you called me in the middle of the night. You said if I didn’t sell my shares, you’d make sure my husband lost his job. And then, just days later, he was fired. Do you expect me to believe that was a coincidence?”
“That’s absurd.” I said, leaning forward. “Your husband’s dismissal had nothing to do with me. You’re grasping at straws.”
“Am I?” She snapped, slamming a hand on the table. “Because I still have the voicemail you left me. Should I play it for everyone here?”
A murmur rippled through the room. Before I could respond, another man spoke up.
“You didn’t just threaten her.” He said, his voice trembling with barely restrained anger. “You came after my family.”
I turned toward him, narrowing my eyes. “And who might you be?”
“John Turner.” He said, standing. His face was red with anger. “Last month, you told me that if I didn’t transfer my shares, you’d have my pregnant wife arrested on false charges. I didn’t believe you-until she was dragged out of our house in handcuffs.”
“That’s a lie!” I snapped. “I’ve never even spoken to you outside of board meetings.”
“Then how do you explain this?” He shot back, pulling a recording device from his pocket. He pressed a button, and my supposed voice filled the room:
“If you don’t sign the papers by tomorrow, John, I’ll make sure your wife spends the next few weeks behind bars. Maybe a little stress will remind you that you should never act stubborn with me.”
My blood ran cold. The voice was eerily similar to mine, but I knew it wasn’t me.
“This is a setup!” I said, standing abruptly. “That’s not my voice. Someone is impersonating me.”
“Impersonating you?” Another board member scoffed. “Do you expect us to believe that? You’ve always been ruthless, Mirabelle. This is just who you are.”
“And what about me?” A young woman at the other end of the table said, her voice shaking. “You threatened to kidnap my daughter if I didn’t sell my shares to you. I-I almost left the city because of you.”
“Enough!” I shouted, slamming my hand on the table. The room fell silent. “These are lies, all of them. Someone is trying to destroy my reputation, and you’re all falling for it. Have any of you stopped to think who might benefit from framing me?”
“Benefit?” Mrs. Patel sneered. “You’re the one who benefits from all this, Mirabelle. You’ve clawed your way to the top by stepping on everyone in this room. And now the government is shutting down your companies. Doesn’t that tell us everything we need to know?”
“A government representative called me this morning.” I shot back. “And he told me the closures were due to infrastructure projects, not illegal activities. If you’re going to accuse me, at least get your facts straight.”
But as I looked around the room, I realized that no one believed me.
“That’s convenient.” Mr. Turner said coldly. “But it doesn’t explain the recordings. It doesn’t explain the photographs. Are you going to tell us those are fake too?”
“I am.” I said firmly, meeting his gaze. “And I’ll prove it. But until then, I suggest you all think very carefully about who’s pulling the strings here. Because it isn’t me.”
The room fell into silence.
I barely noticed the female board member sliding the tablet across the table toward me until it stopped with a thud. “You should look at what the world is saying about you.” She said, her tone sharp enough to cut glass.
Swallowing the lump forming in my throat, I picked up the tablet. My fingers trembled as I scrolled through the screen. The headline hit me hard: ‘Wife of Billionaire Tycoon Noah Sylvester Faces Allegations of Illegally Acquiring Companies.’ Below it, there were reports about my two shut-down companies, with details implying corruption and deceit in their acquisition.
What the hell?
This wasn’t what the government representative had told me earlier. He had been clear-this was about infrastructure development, nothing more. Why was the news spinning a completely different narrative?
My grip tightened on the tablet. Tears pricked the corners of my eyes, threatening to fall, but I blinked them away furiously. No, not here. Not now. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me crumble. I forced myself to take a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs before exhaling slowly. My exterior remained composed, even as my heart raced and my mind spiraled with anger, and confusion.