Chapter 5 - The Truth Revealed
Malcolm’s voice dropped.
“Stop this.”
I smiled.
“You should have read the incorporation documents.”
His eyes flickered.
The first crack.
Small.
But visible.
Gwendolyn stepped forward.
“What incorporation documents?”
Malcolm turned.
“Mother, stay out of this.”
Her expression changed.
She had never heard him speak to her that way.
Vivian moved closer.
“Malcolm?”
He didn’t answer.
I opened the journal.
The first page was covered in handwriting.
My handwriting.
Numbers.
Names.
Dates.
Signatures.
I turned to the next page.
Then another.
“On March third, twelve years ago, I filed the original incorporation documents for Ashford Innovations.”
A murmur moved through the ballroom.
“On March fifth, I deposited the first $180,000 into the company’s operating account.”
Someone whispered.
“That can’t be right.”
I continued.
“On March ninth, Malcolm was added as chief executive officer.”
Malcolm stared at me.
I turned another page.
“Not owner.”
I let the words settle.
“Chief executive officer.”
The room shifted.
People began looking at one another.
A board member near the front stood halfway.
“What are you saying?”
I looked at him.
“I’m saying Malcolm never owned Ashford Innovations.”
Malcolm grabbed the microphone.
“This is ridiculous.”
The sound system amplified his voice.
“This woman is emotionally unstable and—”
I laughed.
Not loudly.
Just enough.
“Emotionally unstable?”
He stopped.
I tilted my head.
“That’s your defense?”
He looked toward the board.
“I think my wife is having some kind of episode.”
One of the directors, Arthur Bell, frowned.
“Malcolm, perhaps we should—”
“No.”
Malcolm’s voice sharpened.
“She has been under enormous stress.”
I looked at Arthur.
“Ask him where the original corporate seal is.”
Malcolm went still.
Arthur looked at him.
“Malcolm?”
“I don’t know what she’s talking about.”
I reached into my bag.
And removed a small brass box.
It was old.
Plain.
The kind of box nobody would notice on a shelf.
I placed it on the stage floor.
Malcolm’s face changed completely.
Because he knew the box.
He had seen it once.
Twelve years earlier.
In my grandmother’s study.
I opened it.
Inside was a brass corporate seal.
An old key.
And a folded document.
I removed the document.
“Article Seven.”
Arthur stepped closer.
“What?”
I held it up.
“The founding agreement.”
Malcolm shook his head.
“No.”
I unfolded it.
The paper was yellowed at the edges.
But the signatures were clear.
Mine.
And my grandmother’s.
And two witnesses.
I read aloud.
“Ownership of Ashford Innovations shall remain with Naen Odum and any designated successor or trust established by her.”
A woman in the audience gasped.
Vivian stared at Malcolm.
“But…”
I looked at her.
“There’s more.”
I turned the page.
“Executive authority may be granted to an appointed officer, but such authority does not constitute ownership.”
Malcolm stepped toward me.
“Give me that.”
I moved the paper away.
“No.”
“Naen.”
“No.”
His voice became dangerous.
May you like
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.”
