Chapter 3 - Whispers in the Boardroom
Cordelia didn’t stay for breakfast. Within forty-five minutes, she was in the back of a chauffeured black sedan racing back toward the Santa Barbara airport. The arrogance had evaporated from her posture, replaced by the rabid panic of a matriarch realizing the family dynasty had been built on quicksand.
Back in Boston, preparations for the wedding of the century were moving at breakneck speed.
Charles had taken a penthouse suite at the Four Seasons while renovations were completed on the family mansion to accommodate the nursery. Phoebe had already hired three celebrity interior designers to turn the east wing into a pastel paradise for the unborn twin girls. She was basking in the glow of society pages, posing for maternity spreads, proudly wearing the vintage Stanhope heirlooms Charles had showered upon her.
When Cordelia landed at Logan International Airport, she didn't head home. She drove directly to Stanhope Enterprises' corporate headquarters on State Street.
Charles was in the middle of an executive committee meeting when his mother pushed past his executive assistant and stepped into the glass-walled boardroom.
"Mother?" Charles frowned, adjusting his silk tie. He looked vibrant, invigorated by his impending fatherhood and the public perception that he had finally conquered his legacy issues. "We’re reviewing the third-quarter projections for the London resort. Can this wait?"
"Out," Cordelia commanded, looking around the mahogany table at six stunned vice presidents. "Everyone out. Now."
The executives gathered their tablets and folders in awkward silence, darting confused glances at Charles before filing out of the room.
Once the heavy frosted glass doors clicked shut, Charles let out an exasperated sigh. "What is wrong with you? Phoebe’s baby shower invitations went out this morning, and the press is having a field day with the positive PR. Why are you storming into my office like this?"
Cordelia dropped a manila envelope directly onto the glass surface.
"I went to California," she said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper.
Charles stiffened. The color instantly drained from his face. "You saw Hannah? Why the hell would you do that? The settlement is done. She took the fifty million. She signed the non-disclosure agreements!"
"She didn't breach the NDA, Charles," Cordelia said coldly. "She didn't need to. She just showed me the report from eight years ago. The one with Dr. Bradley’s signature."
Charles froze. It was as if all the oxygen had been vacuumed from the room. His hands gripped the edge of the conference table, his knuckles turning porcelain white.
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"Charles," Cordelia leaned forward, her eyes boring into his soul. "Are you going to tell me Dr. Bradley was lying? Or are you going to tell me who really got that girl pregnant?"
***
