It appeared that no matter how the pie was sliced, there was absolutely no permutation that capable of satisfying the individual profit margins of the collective crowd—after all, among the dignitaries seated here on this day, who wasn't harboring a clandestine ambition to utilize this crisis to carve out a massive piece of the inheritance for their own faction?

"This is unacceptable! Every individual present shares the bond of the family name, and the property left behind by the late patriarch must naturally be absorbed by the collective body! Whatever is the purpose of mentioning public charity?!" an executive roared, slamming his palm violently against the mahogany.

A dense chorus of vociferous validation immediately rippled through the room; they were unshakeably resolved to force a structural distribution of the late patriarch's remaining fortune into their own hands at all costs.

Chapter 29: Easy

Crash! A porcelain coffee vessel was hurled violently against the polished floorboards, sending a dense spray of shattered white fragments exploding across every direction of the room.

His facial features completely distorted by an iron-blue mask of pure rage, Charles suddenly leveled a trembling finger directly at Chloe’s face: "This structure constitutes the corporate headquarters of the conglomerate! Whatever gives you the impression that an individual of your low stature possesses the right to articulate a solitary word within these walls?! Do not delude yourself into believing that simply because the late patriarch displayed a fondness for your existence in the past, you possess the structural authority to dictate terms to this assembly!"

A cold, clinical sneer etched across the corners of Chloe’s lips. Just as she prepared to part her lips to deliver a scathing response, an alternative, booming voice sliced through the air from the entrance, preempting her movement completely.

"She remains an extension of my own authority, and consequently, if I declare that she possesses the legal right, then her capacity is absolute!"

The heavy mahogany barriers of the boardroom were abruptly flung open from the outside, and Eric Vance strode into the interior. He was clad in a pure black, custom Italian handmade suit jacket beneath a flowing light gray overcoat. His facial features were completely frozen into an expression of absolute ice, bringing a distinct, chilling draft into the warm enclosure.

The collective shareholders, who had been engaged in a chaotic, deafening screaming match a mere fraction of a second prior, instantaneously plunged into absolute, terrified silence the moment Eric breached the threshold.

He executed long, deliberate strides forward, the rhythmic, metallic clicking of his polished leather footwear echoing against the floorboards, sending an involuntary knot of intense anxiety tightening within the chest of every witness.

The verbal response Chloe had assembled was forced back down her throat. Processing the underlying meaning embedded within Eric's declaration, could it be possible that he had mobilized his presence on this day solely to extend his immense corporate protection to her form?

This sudden realization caused a distinct, suffocating sensation to settle over her heart; there were truly entirely too many individuals across this world who only managed to comprehend the concept of cherish after an asset had been permanently severed from their existence.

The ambient atmosphere within the expansive boardroom intensified in structural tension in a fraction of a second, plunging into an absolute, breathless silence where the dropping of a needle would resonate like thunder.

"Eric Vance, whatever catalyst drove your presence to this facility today? This capital has by no means been designated for your personal accounts; whatever purpose motivates your interference within these proceedings?" It was Charles who ultimately summoned the baseline courage to vocalize the initial challenge.

The invisible pressure radiating from Eric's form intensified in its chilling severity. Striding forward to occupy the vacant executive chair stationed directly adjacent to Chloe’s position, he arched a brow, a complex, calculating smile dancing across his features: "Whatever is the matter? Since your own consciousness recognizes these assets as the foundational property of the family empire, you ought to likewise maintain the absolute clarity that if my consent is withheld, not a single living soul can dream of touching a solitary fraction of this wealth!"

Upon processing his decree, the collective shareholders manifested varying degrees of intense displeasure across their features. During the pre-operational planning phases for this assembly, the consensus among the factions had dictated that Eric Vance would absolutely abstain from materializing at the venue; after all, he had catastrophically violated the final mandates entrusted to his care by the late patriarch, a reality that theoretically stripped him of any moral authority to interfere within the distribution of the estate.

Naturally, it was precisely because the collective body had operated under the assumption of his absolute absence that they possessed the courage to so flagrantly attempt a total subversion of the late patriarch's written will.

Lest anyone forget, even if the senior family butler commanded an immense degree of historical reverence from the late patriarch, he remained nothing more than a common employee under the law. Furthermore, Chloe had already affixed her signature to the divorce codicils, and the mandatory timeline governing the dissolution of the marriage had fully reached its conclusion.

As long as the collective shareholders maintained an absolute, unified front to declare that the late patriarch was suffering from total cognitive delirium at the precise juncture he drafted the testament, the legal validity of the will could be effectively dismantled.

After all, for a solitary woman like Chloe to attempt to wage an unrestricted corporate war against the unified might of the family factions was an endeavor where her resources would run dry in a fraction of a second; not a single individual seated around that table was characterized by an easily dismantled disposition.

Charles's face flushed a deep, suffocating shade of black from pure rage. His teeth ground together in silence for a considerable duration, yet he ultimately found himself entirely incapable of formulating a coherent verbal counter-argument before Eric's crushing pressure.

Observing that not a solitary soul across the room possessed the audacity to articulate a challenge, Isabella—who had maintained an absolute, calculating silence throughout the chaos—suddenly let out a soft, pleasant chuckle.

"Eric, on this day, an immense number of your elder uncles and senior family dignitaries have congregated within this space; regarding any structural business matters, it remains significantly more logical for the collective body to navigate the resolution through a process of mutual consultation." The smile masking Isabella's features was profoundly deep; although her verbal delivery was directed exclusively to Eric's attention, her eyes remained locked entirely onto the form of Chloe.

Subjected to that intense, searching gaze, a distinct wave of profound discomfort washed across Chloe’s consciousness. Yet at this particular juncture, she was genuinely entirely uncertain as to how to logically formulate a verbal intervention.

Eric seated himself beside her frame with absolute poise, his long fingers curling slightly as he initiated a slow, rhythmic tapping against the polished wood of the table: "Since this documentation constitutes the explicit testament left behind by the deceased elder, the execution of the property distribution shall naturally proceed in strict accordance with the text of the will."

"Absolutely unacceptable! The late patriarch was suffering from such severe medical failures at that juncture; he was undeniably demented by his failing health to have ever directed the foundational assets of the conglomerate into the hands of an total outsider! Consequently, this document can absolutely never be classified as valid!" The individual who had delivered the challenge was none other than Eric's third biological uncle.

Eric's sharp brows creased into a slight furrow, his voice dropping into a register heavily saturated with an unmistakable, lethal threat: "Third Uncle, my internal intelligence network recently delivered a report indicating that a specific corporate entity operating under your direct personal lineage has encountered a handful of severe anomalies regarding national tax compliance. Do you require my personal corporate office to intervene and oversee the resolution of that matter?"

The moment the final syllable left his lips, the blood completely drained from the elder's face, his features contorting into a mask of pure terror: "You! You, you, you... there is absolutely no necessity for your office to squander your valuable focus on my affairs!"

Following that swift, clinical execution, not a solitary soul across the entire breadth of the boardroom possessed the baseline audacity to step forward to voice an objection.

Observing the total subversion of the boardroom dynamic, Isabella suddenly let out a soft chuckle, adjusting her stance: "Let us bring this debate to a conclusion. Since this structural arrangement constitutes the explicit, final mandate engineered by the late patriarch, the collective body must naturally bow to the old man's wishes. Since the assets are being delivered into the exclusive possession of Miss Chloe rather than drifting into alternative outside hands, my own faction naturally harbors absolutely no further objections."

Chloe faltered for a brief moment, her mind requiring several seconds to fully process the underlying strategic logic embedded within Isabella's sudden capitulation.