59. Chapter 59
A ria
All eyes turned to Alice.
She hadn't moved. Her eyes were on her lap, hands folded neatly. Then, slowly, she looked up.
Cobalt blue eyes stared back. So, like Crispin's. So, like their father's, only now sharpened to razor point with intent.
"Twenty percent," she said, "to retain."
The room erupted into chaos.
Simon bolted upright. "You have no right! You cannot vote; there's a year left before-"
"Before I come into my inheritance?" Alice said, voice dry.
Simon faltered, then sneered. "This is neither the time nor the place for your stupid dramatics, you ungrateful girl. Don't make your incompetence known- "
Alice smiled coldly before interrupting her father yet again, "I've never liked the archaic rules you men use to keep women under control. Not particularly fond of the patriarchy, either. But sometimes..." her gaze swept the room before landing squarely on Simon, "it's useful."
Marcus ventured, "There's no scenario..."
"There is one," Alice said.
She raised her hand, and only then did the room notice the rings. An antique Edwardian diamond cluster ring with a large sapphire shining at its centre shone from her ring finger like a precious secret unveiled. And beneath it, a slender platinum band.
"The only exemption that allows me to inherit and vote before thirty-five by my grandfather's will," she said, her eyes sliding to Marcus, "is marriage. That stupid document should have been fed to the paper shredder as soon as one was written, but fortunately, it was not."
Marcus's mouth parted, but it was Alice who completed the thought. "And I got married one week ago."
Another gasp.
"The shares and the trust...they are all under my control. "
She stood slowly, then she placed her hand on Aria's shoulder in a not-so-subtle gesture and looked around the boardroom. "As I said, twenty percent to retain."
While everyone was grappling with these new revelations, Crispin stood.
He looked around the room once, then said calmly, "As you can all see, not all is as it seemed."
He turned to the other end of the table, towards his father.
"I propose Simon Du Valares be removed from the board of directors effective immediately. He may retain a stakeholder's role."
Gasps.
"All in favour?" the chairman asked.
Hands raised.
The motion was passed.
Crispin turned and looked his mother in the eye for just for a moment, then at his father.
Neither had a word to say .
"Thank you all for coming," he said flatly. "The meeting is adjourned."
As the room began to shift into motion-papers gathering, murmurs rising-he passed Marcus.
Crispin paused before leaning in. "It's blood of the covenant, arsehole," he said coolly.
Marcus blinked, confused. "What?"
Crispin straightened, a smile on his face, but his eyes were a cold as ice. "The full saying isn't 'blood is thicker than water.' It's 'the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.'"
Marcus blinked, confused.
Crispin's gaze swept the table before landing squarely on his father, then his mother. "To me, it means the bonds we choose-loyalty, honour, friendship-can be stronger than those we're born into. You," he added, voice low and deliberate, "are my blood, yet you didn't stand by me."
His eyes shifted briefly to Marcus. "You manipulated, abandoned, and belittled me. You terrified and tried to blackmail a pregnant woman, the mother of my child."
Then he turned to his mother. "You stood beside the man who tried to destroy me, my own father, who should have loved me. "
He turned slightly, eyes falling on Dorian and then Aria. "But they-the ones with no blood ties to me-chose me. They fought for me. They stood with me when it mattered."
Then, without waiting for a response, he turned to Aria and took her hand again. They walked out together, heads high, shoulders straight, leaving behind a stunned silence.
The hallway was quiet. Outside, the low hum of London traffic barely filtered in through the double-paned glass.
But just as they reached the elevators, a voice called out, "Wait."
Crispin turned.
His mother had followed them, her elegant heels sinking into the plush carpet. Her hands trembled, and her eyes were full. She kept glancing at Aria's belly, her breath catching slightly with each stolen glance.
"I'm sorry," she whispered to Aria. "Please forgive me. I didn't understand... I am so sorry."
Aria didn't speak; she just watched her, wary and still.
His mother's gaze moved to Crispin. "I love him," she said, voice breaking. "I couldn't turn on him."
Crispin's eyes didn't soften. "But what about your children?" he asked. "What about us? "
She flinched at the anguish squeezed into those three words.
"Your love is...selfish," he said, gentler now, but no less firm. "You're not a bad person, but you made a choice. And that choice told me exactly where I stand."
He sighed, weariness creeping in around the edges of his voice. "I love you, Mum. I always will in spite of what you've done. And maybe, someday, we'll find a common ground, a place to meet again. But today isn't that day." He paused, voice softer. "And it won't be for a very long time."
Silent tears slid silently down her cheeks.
She nodded, lips trembling, and looked at Alice, who was still standing tall, still watchful behind them. Her eyes dropped to Alice's left hand, to the sapphire ring. Her mouth opened to speak, but she thought better of it.
Without another word, she turned and followed Simon's retreating form down the hall, her shoulders curved inwards like she was trying to fold herself away.
Aria exhaled slowly.
Crispin looked at her and squeezed her hand. "Let's go. "
And together, they stepped into the elevator. Away from the family that betrayed him and towards the one they were building.