Chapter 7 - THE MOTHER'S RING
Arthur looked down at the gold pocket watch in his hand, confused. "What are you talking about, Preston?"
Preston’s pale face was set in stone. He leaned forward, his voice a low, vibrating hum of absolute power. He wasn't the broken man who had cried in the boardroom. He was the King of Waverly Industries, and he had come to claim his crown.
"You think Eleanor is smart?" Preston asked, a cold smile touching his lips. "You think she orchestrated a coup tonight?"
Arthur frowned. "She has the votes. The board sided with her."
"The board sided with the shares," Preston corrected. "Eleanor thinks her trust fund gives her the controlling interest. But she forgot to read the fine print of Grandpa’s will."
Preston turned to me. "Hannah, give him the photograph."
I handed Arthur the polaroid of Diane.
"My mother wasn't just your wife, Dad," Preston said quietly. "She was the co-founder of the original tech patent that built Waverly Industries. When she died, her shares didn't go to you. They went into a blind trust, to be released to me on the day my first child was born."
Arthur’s eyes widened. The realization hit him like a physical blow.
"Eleanor thought she won because she kept Hannah a secret for a year," Preston continued, his voice echoing in the quiet hospital corridor. "But Grace exists. And the moment Grace drew her first breath four months ago, my mother’s trust activated."
Preston stepped closer to his father.
"I don't own thirty percent of the company, Dad. I own sixty. Eleanor doesn't control the board. I do. And an hour ago, while I was giving blood to save my daughter, I made a phone call to the SEC."
Arthur gasped, stepping back. "You didn't."
"I reported Eleanor for corporate embezzlement," Preston said, his voice devoid of any sympathy. "The two million dollars she stole from Hannah? She routed it through the company's European accounts. That’s federal fraud. The FBI will be at her penthouse by sunrise."
Arthur slumped against the wall, leaning heavily on his cane. The empire he had built, the empire he had sacrificed his soul to protect, had just been torn from his grasp by the very son he tried to harden.
"Preston..." Arthur whispered, looking old and broken. "I... I thought I was protecting the legacy."
"Hannah and Grace are my legacy," Preston said fiercely. "You are just a man I used to know."
Preston turned his back on his father and walked over to me. He took my hand, his thumb tracing the empty space on my left ring finger where my wedding band used to be.
He reached into his pocket one last time.
He pulled out a simple, elegant gold band.
It wasn't a massive diamond. It wasn't a show of wealth. It was smooth, worn gold.
"This was my mother's," Preston whispered, his eyes locking onto mine. "It’s the only thing of hers I have left. I should have given it to you the day I met you. Because you have her strength."
He slid the ring onto my finger. It fit perfectly.
"I will spend the rest of my life making up for the year I lost," Preston vowed, pressing his forehead against mine. "I love you, Hannah. I never stopped."
Before I could answer, the double doors of the surgical wing swung open.
Dr. Evans stepped out. He was still wearing his surgical scrubs, and his face was unreadable.
Preston and I pulled apart, terror instantly flooding back into our veins.
"Dr. Evans?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Is it time?"
The doctor looked at us. Then, he looked down at his clipboard.
"We began the prep for the open-heart procedure," Dr. Evans said slowly. "We ran the final pre-op echocardiogram to map the exact locations of the defects."
May you like
He paused, taking a deep breath.
"Mr. and Mrs. Waverly. There has been a significant development."
