Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption

Chapter 306: There must be another way out.

Her voice, soft yet intimidating and unyielding, filtered through the conference room like a haunting melody that wouldn’t be silenced.

It commanded attention, not by volume, but by sheer power. Every member seated at the long mahogany boardroom table turned their heads, eyes wide with a mixture of reverence and curiosity.

Vera took a deep breath to calm her nerves, but it was barely effective. Her hands trembled slightly under the table as her eyes flicked between Desmond and Jessica.

Aaron, seated beside his father, clenched his fists so tightly under the table that the veins on his knuckles bulged. He struggled to restrain the fiery storm of temper swirling inside him.

Desmond, for all his usual composure, could feel something was wrong. The confidence exuding from Jessica wasn’t the bravado of someone bluffing. It was a certainty.

He suddenly had a gnawing premonition that things might not go his way, especially if he allowed her to keep speaking.

"Whatever brought you here has to wait until this meeting is over," he said sharply, raising his voice to regain dominance. "We need to continue. There are decisions to be made for the sake of time."

He met Jessica’s eyes with a glare meant to intimidate, but her eyes didn’t waver. They met his squarely, filled with calm disdain.

"Uncle," she began, her voice light, almost amused. "You don’t have to fret over anything. Like I said, I’m here strictly for business."

She turned away from Desmond, her eyes scanning the faces of the board members.

"I am—" she started, only to be cut off.

"Can we talk outside?" Desmond asked coldly. The temperature of his voice dropped enough to send a chill through several people at the table.

But the temperature in the room dropped further when Jessica answered.

"Mr. Allen Desmond," she said smoothly, turning back to him, "were you never trained not to interrupt others when they speak?"

Her words sliced through the room like a dagger. Gasps echoed, and whispers followed immediately. The board members stared at Desmond, unsure what stunned them more: Jessica’s rebuke or the fact that she had the gall to say it.

Then she followed it up.

"Or do you have something you’re trying to hide from us?"

Desmond swallowed hard. He forced himself to take a deep breath, his chest rising and falling in slow movements as he tried to rein in the fury that threatened to boil over. Stay calm, he told himself. Let her finish. It’s not like I’m going down with the rest.

Jessica smiled wider. Her smile was not sweet but practiced "I am Jessica Allen," she said clearly. "Granddaughter-in-law to Elder Allen."

The room erupted in murmurs again.

"Granddaughter-in-law?"

"So she is married to Davis?"

"What is she doing here at the board meeting?"

"She just objected to the vote..."

The questions swirled in hushed voices as the board members leaned toward each other, confusion mounting. Desmond remained stiff in his seat, eyes twitching with suppressed rage.

Jessica raised her hand slightly to bring silence.

"I apologize for arriving late," she continued, her tone polite but not submissive. "However, as the major shareholder of the Allen Group, I could not allow critical decisions to be made in my absence."

A wave of silence washed over the room, thicker and heavier than before.

"What?!" Vera gasped, her voice shrill, almost hysterical.

Aaron looked like he’d just been slapped. Desmond’s lips parted slightly, as if to speak, but no sound came out.

Jessica tilted her head toward Vera.

"Sister-in-law," she said sweetly, "do be careful. It’s just ordinary shares. No need to get worked up. You might faint before the meeting ends."

Her eyes drifted to Davis, who was still silent, calmly scrolling on his phone like he was watching a comedy show. That irritated Vera more than anything. She glared at Jessica.

Desmond finally found his voice.

"Jessica, that’s impossible," he said. "You cannot possibly be the major shareholder. What about the old man? Are you saying his shares are with you?"

Jessica let out a short laugh, cold and dry.

"Seems you won’t believe anything unless you see it with your own eyes."

She gestured toward the lady standing near the door. The lady stepped forward and placed a sleek leather folder on the table.

Jessica flipped it open and pulled out the shareholder certificate. She passed it to the secretary, who quickly moved it around the table.

The room buzzed as the members leaned in to look. Murmurs grew louder.

"30%?"

"Is this real?"

Desmond sneered, latching onto the one straw he had left.

"Even with that," he said, "you only have 30%. That’s not enough to override the board."

Several members nodded slowly, giving him support.

But Jessica wasn’t done.

She leaned against the table slightly, her tone light and teasing.

"Uncle," she said, "you claim to hold 20% in shares, but only 5% is currently in your name. The rest have been ..." she paused letting the word sink

Gasps followed. All heads turned sharply toward Desmond.

Even Davis finally looked up, raising one brow. A tiny smile touched his lips. She really came prepared, he thought.

Desmond paled. His lips trembled.

Jessica wasn’t finished.

"You want to talk about votes and proxy rights?" she continued. "Let me help you with the math."

She reached into the folder and pulled out another document. This one she handed personally to the secretary.

"An additional 15% transferred to me from a third-party acquisition," she said casually. "That brings my total to 45%."

More gasps. Now the room was buzzing.

Aaron stared at his father, horrified.

"How could you let this happen?" he whispered.

Jessica waited a beat before speaking again.

"And finally," she said, her voice as soft as silk and sharp as a sword, "25% inherited from my late mother, Nora Santiago."

The name ’Nora Santiago’ echoed like thunder.

Desmond looked like he’d just swallowed nails.

"You..." he stammered.

Jessica smirked.

"Yes," she said, her tone dancing between triumph and challenge. "Which makes it a total of 70%, with 5% held in trust. I believe I don’t need to spell out what that means."

One of the female board members, previously aligned with Desmond, cleared her throat and looked directly at him.

"Mr. Desmond, do you still wish to put that motion to a vote?"

Desmond couldn’t answer. He sat stiffly, jaw locked, as sweat began to bead at his temple.

Jessica stood tall, her arms folded across her chest. Her gaze swept across the room.

Desmond found himself struggling to catch his breath as he stared at Jessica.

That gaze, the unwavering confidence, the commanding aura—it all mirrored Nora to a disturbing degree. A flicker of panic crossed his mind.

"Why haven’t I thought of that before?" he cursed under his breath. Yet, his pride wouldn’t let him retreat so easily.

No matter who she reminded him of, he wouldn’t allow some young lady to waltz in and shatter everything he had worked so hard to build.

Besides, Desmond mused, she had grown up in the countryside. What could she possibly know about corporate shares, boardroom dynamics, or the intricate politics of the Allen Group?

His eyes narrowed sharply at her, a cold, calculating smirk curling on his lips. It was a smirk that once made seasoned executives shiver.

Jessica, however, didn’t flinch. Her gaze met him directly—unfazed and steady. She read the smirk like an open book. He was plotting something.

Acting on instinct, she took a step forward and said firmly, "Uncle, in case you’re tempted to claim these shares are doctored or fake, I anticipated that. That’s why I came with a certified appraiser."

The confident smirk on Desmond’s face vanished as if wiped clean by a sudden gust of wind. He hadn’t expected her to be this prepared—certainly not to bring someone who could instantly verify the authenticity of the documents. Worse still, someone whose credibility he couldn’t challenge.

At Jessica’s subtle nod, her assistant moved swiftly to the door and opened it. In walked a sharply dressed middle-aged man, carrying an air of professionalism and precision.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mr. James Crawford," Jessica announced, her voice echoing slightly in the boardroom. "He’s a senior partner at Cranston & Grey, and one of the most sought-after appraisers in the corporate world."

The moment James stepped into the room, a wave of recognition passed through several board members. The weight of his name was enough to make even the most stubborn of them sit straighter.

Some of the members who had earlier voted in Desmond’s favor sighed in resignation. One of them leaned toward his colleague and muttered under his breath, "It’s over. We’ve lost this battle." noveldrama

James bowed politely to the board, then calmly pulled on his gloves with the practiced grace of someone who had done this a thousand times.

He walked to the front of the room where the documents were placed, laid them out, and began a meticulous verification process.

The boardroom fell into an intense silence. Every breath was held, every eye fixated on James’s every movement. Even the sound of the ticking wall clock seemed amplified.

Desmond clenched his fists under the table. He could feel his carefully constructed empire unraveling thread by thread.

He would have objected, demanded a halt to this verification, maybe called for a legal review—but it was too late. Jessica had closed every gap. She had predicted every countermove.

Desmond leaned back slightly, his mind racing.

"No... no, this can’t be the end. There must be another way out," he muttered under his breath, voice hoarse.