Page 13 of The Vows He Buried

The BlakeCore boardroom was a theater of sharks.

It was a sleek, glass-walled space on the top floor of the Greenwich tower, designed to intimidate, with a panoramic view of the Long Island Sound that seemed to suggest a mastery over the very horizon.

A long, black granite table polished to a mirror shine reflected the grim, predatory faces of the board members.

They were old men, mostly, titans of industry and finance who had known my father for decades, men who smelled weakness like blood in the water. And right now, the water was red.

My brother, Jasper, sat at the head of the table, in our father’s chair.

He looked exhausted, the skin stretched tight over his cheekbones, his jaw clenched.

He was wearing a perfect suit, his tie knotted with precision, but the pressure was visible in the tense line of his shoulders.

For two weeks, since my father had collapsed from a massive stroke and slipped into a coma, Jasper had been holding the company together with sheer force of will. But the sharks were circling.

“With all due respect, Jasper,” one of them, a portly man named Arthur Henderson with a booming voice and small, piggy eyes, was saying, “your father’s condition is…

precarious. The market needs stability. It needs a firm hand on the tiller.

We need to discuss appointing an interim CEO from outside the family. ”

It was a coup, cloaked in the language of corporate concern. They were trying to wrest control of my father’s life’s work while he lay helpless in a hospital bed.

“My father is still the CEO,” Jasper countered, his voice dangerously even. “And I am the COO. I have the situation under control. Our Q3 numbers are strong, and the launch of Project Chimera is on schedule.”

“A project your father spearheaded,” Henderson shot back. “We need to know who will lead us if… the worst should happen. We can’t let this company, our investments, be run on sentiment.”

The double doors to the boardroom swung open.

Every head turned. The hushed, tense argument died instantly.

I walked in.

I had chosen my armor with care. A power suit, tailored to perfection, in a shade of deep, unapologetic crimson.

The color of blood, of life, of war. Beneath it, a simple black silk shell.

My hair was pulled back in a sleek, severe chignon, and my heels clicked with sharp, deliberate authority on the polished floor.

I was not the ghost of Savannah Vale. I was Savannah Blake, and I had come to claim my kingdom.

A wave of shock rippled through the room. These men knew me as the quiet, artistic daughter who had married into the Vale dynasty and disappeared. They knew me as Mrs. Maddox Vale, a society wife. They did not know the woman who stood before them now.

Jasper’s face was a mask of stunned disbelief, quickly followed by a wave of profound, bone-deep relief. He didn’t know I was coming. This was my surprise.

“Savannah?” he breathed.

Arthur Henderson recovered first, his piggy eyes narrowing with displeasure. “Mrs. Vale. This is a closed meeting of the board. I’m afraid you’re not welcome here.”

I let a small, cold smile touch my lips. I walked slowly towards the table, my gaze sweeping over each of their faces, letting them feel the full weight of my presence. I didn’t stop until I reached the empty chair beside Jasper, at the head of the table.

“It’s Ms. Blake,” I said, my voice clear and steady, resonating in the sudden, tomb-like silence of the room.

I looked directly at Henderson. “And as the beneficial owner of the largest single block of voting shares in this company, after my father, I believe any meeting discussing its leadership is very much my business.”

The statement landed like a grenade. It was true.

My father had placed a significant portion of his shares in a trust for me years ago, a trust that the Vales had never been able to touch.

For three years, I had let the dividends accumulate, managed by Harper, my proxy vote assigned to my father. Now, I was taking it back.

“Your shares are managed by your father,” another board member, a thin, weaselly man named Peterson, pointed out.

“A situation that has now changed,” I replied smoothly.

I placed my leather portfolio on the table and pulled out a document.

“This is a legally executed proxy revocation and reassignment. As of 9:00 AM this morning, I control my own vote. So, I’ll ask again, Mr. Henderson.

What, exactly, were you discussing about the future of my company? ”

The shift in power was palpable. They were no longer dealing with the young, overwhelmed son. They were dealing with a united front.

Before Henderson could formulate a response, the boardroom doors opened again.

Maddox strode in.

He looked every inch the powerful CEO, dressed in a flawless navy suit, his expression one of concerned authority.

He had likely heard about the emergency meeting and had come to “support” Jasper—a transparent power play to insert himself into BlakeCore’s moment of vulnerability, and perhaps, to get to me.

“Jasper,” he said, his voice resonating with false sincerity.

“I heard what was happening. I came as soon as I could. Don’t let these vultures pressure you.

Vale Global stands with you. We can offer any resources, any support you need to weather this.

” He was positioning himself as a savior, a partner.

His eyes found me then, and he faltered for a second, shock warring with something else in his gaze. He hadn’t expected me here. He hadn’t expected this version of me.

He recovered quickly. “Savannah. I’m glad you’re here with your family.” He was trying to frame me as the dutiful daughter, not the power player.

I didn’t look at him. I kept my attention focused on the board. But I spoke to him.

“Thank you for your concern, Maddox,” I said, my voice dripping with ice. “But BlakeCore has never needed the support of its competitors. Especially not now.”

The dismissal was absolute. I had drawn a line in the sand, publicly severing any connection. The air crackled with tension. Maddox’s face tightened, a flash of anger in his eyes at the public rebuke.

“Now,” I said, turning my full attention back to the stunned board members. “As I was saying. The leadership of this company is not in question.”

“Your father is incapacitated, Savannah!” Henderson boomed, finding his voice again. “A block of shares and a proxy vote doesn’t make you qualified to run a multi-billion-dollar tech firm!”

“You’re right,” I said calmly. “It doesn’t.”

I reached into my portfolio again and pulled out a second document, this one sealed with my father’s personal insignia.

“This, however, does.”

I slid the document across the table to Mark Jennings, our family’s lawyer, who had been sitting quietly at the far end of the table. “Mark, would you do the honors?”

Mark broke the seal and cleared his throat.

“This is a letter of authorization and temporary appointment, signed by Daniel Blake and notarized two months ago, to be enacted in the event of his medical incapacitation.” He looked around the table, his gaze firm.

“It appoints, as co-interim Chief Executive Officers, with full operational authority, his son, Jasper Blake, and his daughter, Savannah Blake.”

Checkmate.

The silence in the room was absolute, broken only by the sound of Henderson’s sharp intake of breath.

My father, my brilliant, forward-thinking father, had anticipated this.

He had known his health was failing, and he had put a contingency in place.

He had armed me for a battle I didn’t even know was coming.

He had never stopped believing in the daughter he had raised, not the wife I had become.

A wave of love and gratitude for him washed over me, strengthening my resolve.

Maddox stared at me, his face a mask of disbelief. He had seen me as a broken doll, a runaway wife. He had never imagined I held this kind of power. He had underestimated me. They all had.

“This is preposterous,” Henderson sputtered, his face turning a blotchy red.

“It’s legally binding,” Mark Jennings stated calmly.

I stood up, placing my hands flat on the cool granite table. I leaned forward slightly, my gaze pinning each and every one of them in their seats.

“Let me be perfectly clear,” I said, my voice low and dangerous.

“My brother and I are now running this company. We will execute our father’s vision for Project Chimera, and we will protect this company from anyone who sees our family’s tragedy as an opportunity.

” My eyes flickered to Maddox, who flinched as if struck.

“There will be no further discussion about interim leadership. Is that understood?”

No one spoke. They just stared, their expressions ranging from shock to grudging respect.

“And who are you to think you can do this?” Peterson, the weaselly man, finally dared to ask, his voice a sneer. “You’ve been out of the game for three years, playing house.”

I straightened up, a slow, cold smile touching my lips. I looked at the man who had dared to challenge me, and then at all the others who were thinking the same thing. I let the silence stretch, letting them stew in their own doubt. Then, I delivered the final blow.

“I’m the daughter of Daniel Blake,” I said, my voice ringing with a power they could not deny. “The one who remembers how to fight.”