CHAPTER 4 — The Ghost in the Boardroom
The Mercer name didn’t vanish. It changed hands. When the scandal settled, the board wanted Damien back. They wanted the familiar face. The predictable heir. They offered him his mother’s old office. The one with the mahogany desk and the view that made people look like ants.
Damien stood in the center of the room. The air still smelled like Victoria’s expensive perfume and cold ambition. He looked at the chair. For thirty-four years, he thought success meant sitting in it. Now, it just looked like a cage.
“I’m declining the position,” Damien said. The interim chairman blinked. “Damien, this is your legacy.” “No,” Damien replied quietly. “This was my mother’s prison. I’m not signing up for the life sentence.”
He signed the divestment papers instead. He kept his shares, but relinquished his control. He walked out of the building with one box of personal belongings. No cameras. No press release.
When he drove to the apartment he now rented—a modest place with too much sunlight and no echo—he sat on the floor. His hands were shaking. Not from fear. From the sudden, terrifying weight of being completely free.
May you like
He texted Mara: I quit the firm today. Ten minutes passed. Then her reply: Good. Now you have time to learn how to assemble a bicycle. Ethan’s birthday is next week.
Damien looked at the screen. And for the first time in his life, he didn’t feel the need to call his lawyer.
