Chapter 126 The Board Meeting
Carlos Mason stood rigidly inside his private home office, his dark eyes tracking the dense paragraphs of the legal briefing his corporate counsel had meticulously prepared for the emergency board of directors meeting scheduled for the following afternoon.
It had been exactly two weeks since his father’s terminal respirations had ceased.
Two weeks since the thirty-five percent equity block had officially cleared probate into his personal investment portfolio.
Two weeks since he and Teresa had made the conscious, electric decision to tear up their business model and allow their contract union to transform into a real, unyielding love.
And now, the definitive threshold he had single-handedly built an empire in Melbourne to conquer had finally arrived on his timeline.
The emergency boardroom summit where he would formally petition the legacy for his seat.
Carlos’s chief corporate litigation counsel - a razor-sharp, hyper-analytical woman named Beatrice Chen- sat directly across the mahogany desk, her custom digital tablets and financial indices spread out in geometric patterns.
"The structural transfer of the assets is completely pristine," Beatrice stated, her clicking stylus coming to a halt against the glass.
"Thirty-five percent of all outstanding voting shares of Mason Industries are officially recorded under your name. You are now the single second-largest shareholder in the entire pyramid, sitting directly behind Justin, who commands forty percent.
The remaining twenty-five percent is fragmented among institutional hedge funds and legacy board members."
"And the structural validity of my petition for representation?" Carlos demanded, his baritone low.
"It is completely unassailable under corporate law," Beatrice confirmed flatly.
"With a thirty-five percent equity concentration, you possess every single legal right to demand direct board representation. The corporate bylaws validate the play. Historical corporate precedent validates the play.
Justin can deploy every single public relations firm in Manhattan to fight the transfer, but under a strict legal audit, his resistance will fail."
"He will still launch a scorched-earth campaign," Carlos murmured, his hands tracing the edge of the desk.
"Of course he will," Beatrice agreed, her gaze narrowing with a seasoned caution.
"But Carlos... your system needs to be prepared for this confrontation to turn incredibly ugly. Justin has spent five long years aggressively consolidating his alliances on this board. He has engineered deep-seated institutional relationships, fierce internal loyalties,
and massive administrative influence. A segment of the board will readily support your entry based on your astronomical private equity success with Mason Capital Holdings. But the old guard? They are going to view your return as a massive, destabilizing threat to their current market cap."
"Break down the immediate vote metrics," Carlos instructed.
Beatrice consulted her private spreadsheet.
"Patterson is locked in. He has been remarkably vocal about demanding fresh, disruptive executive perspectives to combat market stagnation. Chen - no relation to me - is highly likely to clear his vote into your column based on your infrastructure acquisitions in Singapore.
Reyes has historically maintained an intense loyalty to Moises’s side of the bloodline, so we mark him as a definitive yes. That guarantees you three out of the twelve voting seats."
"And my cousin’s column?" Carlos prompted.
"Justin commands at least five solid, unyielding votes," Beatrice stated transparently.
"Perhaps six if the compliance metrics swing his way. The remainder of the table is entirely undecided. Which means tomorrow afternoon’s layout is going to come down to a war of pure execution.
It will depend entirely on your capacity to command that room and convince the swing voters that your global track record makes you an asset they cannot afford to lock out."
Carlos offered a slow, cold nod, his sharp jaw locking into place. "I am more than prepared to command them."
"There is one final variable we must analyze," Beatrice said carefully, her voice dropping into a heavily guarded cadence.
"Justin’s chief investigator has been asking exceptionally pointed questions around the municipal clerks' office regarding your marriage.
They are auditing Teresa. They are mapping the exact timeline of the registry."
Carlos felt a sudden, familiar tightness violently constrict his chest. "Define the nature of their inquiries."
"They are looking to challenge the legitimacy of the union," Beatrice said cleanly.
"They want to build a narrative that the marriage was executed solely as a fraudulent transaction to satisfy the stability clause in your father's will. They are preparing to argue to the board that it is a sham marriage engineered specifically to circumvent the inheritance conditions."
"It is a completely legitimate marriage," Carlos growled, his dark eyes flashing with a sudden, lethal protective fire. "Teresa is my wife. We are cohabitating in this penthouse. We are actively building a real life together."
"I am fully aware of the data, Carlos," Beatrice countered soothingly.
"But Justin is desperate. He is going to attempt to paint your partnership as a clinical, manufactured deception. He is going to argue that you manipulated the spirit of the will’s requirements and petition the board to freeze your voting rights until a full legal audit can be completed."
"Does that strategy possess any real structural weight?" Carlos asked, his voice dripping with authority.
"On paper? It's a remarkably weak play," Beatrice analyzed.
"The legal text of the will simply mandates that you must be lawfully wed before the assets clear probate. It does not dictate an emotional baseline or a mandatory pre-marriage courtship duration. As long as you and Teresa hold a state-certified license at the moment of transfer,
the requirements are completely satisfied."
"Then his strategy is a dead end," Carlos stated.
"Unless Teresa provides them with a contradiction," Beatrice dropped the ultimate liability into the room, watching her client closely.
"If Justin's team approaches her and she releases a statement confirming the initial contract - if she states that the union was a business transaction entered into for financial gain - it will completely invalidate your inheritance claim."
"Teresa will never betray our home," Carlos stated instantly, his voice an absolute column of unshakeable certainty.
"Are you absolutely certain of her alignment, Carlos?" Beatrice pressed. "Based on your layout, if Justin corners her in the shadows, if his legal team hand-delivers a massive alternative offer - "
"She is my wife," Carlos cut her off completely, his baritone an iron growl that brooked zero argument. "She is my partner. Her loyalty to our future is total. Do not question her position again, Beatrice."
The lawyer lifted her hands in a diplomatic surrender. "I am simply ensuring your office has analyzed every single vulnerability, Carlos. Justin is going to march into that conference room tomorrow with every weapon his empire commands. You cannot afford to blink."
"I have never blinked in my life," Carlos stated coldly. "And neither will my wife."
Beatrice nodded smartly, gathering her encrypted tablets into her briefcase. "Then I will meet your detail at the Mason Industries tower tomorrow at two o'clock sharp. Executive conference room four. Be prepared for blood, Carlos."
Left alone in the quiet of his study, Carlos stared blankly down at the financial briefs spread across his desk.
Tomorrow afternoon, he would stride into the belly of the beast and violently demand the legacy his father had been passed over for.
Justin would deploy every corporate mechanism in Manhattan to crush his return.
But Carlos Mason was done standing on the sidelines.
He had sacrificed his five years of exile, endured the loss of his father, and gambled his entire heart on the woman sleeping down the hall.
He was taking his throne. No matter how brutal the war became.