The Morgan Group boardroom is tense with anticipation as directors file in for the vote on Ascendant Group's acquisition offer. I sit at one end of the long mahogany table, flanked by my legal team and Marcus, who's acting as my CFO for this meeting. At the opposite end sits my father, Charles Morgan, with Diana beside him and Cassandra further down, her expression tight with barely contained fury.

The other board members—twelve in total—take their seats with murmured greetings and curious glances in my direction. Most of them I recognize from my research: old friends of my father's, business associates, a few independent directors with impressive credentials.


None of them recognize me as Charles Morgan's daughter, the rightful heir to the company who was forced out five years ago under false pretenses. To them, I'm simply Olivia Knight, president of Ascendant Group and wife of Ethan Knight—a formidable business opponent but a stranger nonetheless.

"Shall we begin?" my father suggests once everyone is settled. "We're here to vote on the proposed acquisition of Morgan Group's Asian division by Ascendant Group. Mrs. Knight, would you like to make any final statements before we proceed?"

"Thank you, Mr. Morgan," I reply, my voice steady despite the surreal nature of addressing my own father so formally. "The offer before you represents a fair valuation of the Asian division, taking into account both its current challenges and future potential. Ascendant Group brings expertise in emerging markets that will benefit the division, while Morgan Group maintains a significant stake and operational involvement. It's a partnership designed to strengthen both companies."


I pause, making eye contact with each board member. "The financial details are in the packets before you. I'm happy to address any final questions before the vote."

One of the older directors—Harrison Wells, a longtime friend of my father's—raises his hand. "Mrs. Knight, this acquisition seems to have come together rather quickly. What sparked Ascendant Group's interest in our Asian division specifically?"


A reasonable question, but one that requires careful navigation. I can hardly tell them the truth—that I created Ascendant Group specifically to target Morgan Group, to begin the process of reclaiming what's rightfully mine.

"Strategic alignment," I answer smoothly. "Ascendant Group has been looking to expand its Asian presence, and your division has established infrastructure but needs capital infusion and fresh management approaches. It's a natural fit."

Wells nods, seemingly satisfied with this explanation. Another director begins asking about employment guarantees for current staff, which I address with prepared talking points about minimal disruption and retention incentives.

Throughout this exchange, I'm acutely aware of Cassandra watching me, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. She hasn't made her move yet, whatever it is, but the tension radiating from her suggests it's coming soon.

After addressing several more questions, my father calls for the vote. "All those in favor of accepting Ascendant Group's acquisition offer for the Asian division, please raise your hands."

Hands begin to rise—one, two, five, eight... It looks like we have the majority needed to approve the deal.

"Wait!" Cassandra interrupts, standing abruptly. "Before we vote, there's new information the board needs to consider."

Here it is—the counter-move I've been anticipating.

"What information, Cassandra?" my father asks, his tone suggesting this is an unwelcome disruption.

"Information about Ascendant Group," she replies, distributing folders to each board member. "And its mysterious president."

My pulse quickens, but I maintain my composed expression as the directors open the folders. What has she discovered? How much does she know?

"These documents show that Ascendant Group was formed just three years ago," Cassandra continues, "with funding from sources that are difficult to trace. Its corporate structure includes shell companies and offshore entities that obscure its true ownership."

"Many companies use complex structures for tax purposes," I interject calmly. "There's nothing illegal or even unusual about our corporate organization."

"Perhaps not," Cassandra concedes. "But when combined with the suspicious timing of your company's formation and its singular focus on acquiring our Asian division, it raises questions about your true motives, Mrs. Knight."

She emphasizes my married name with subtle disdain, as if questioning its legitimacy. "Which brings me to my second point. Olivia Knight appeared in New York society less than a month ago, with no prior public record of her existence. Her marriage to Ethan Knight was conducted in private, with no announcement until after the fact. And her son—conveniently the same age as the gap in her professional history—bears a striking resemblance to his supposed father."

The implication is clear—she's suggesting my marriage to Ethan is a recent arrangement of convenience, possibly to give legitimacy to a child that might not be his. It's dangerously close to the truth, though not in the way she imagines.

"Ms. Morgan," I say coolly, "my personal life has no bearing on this business transaction. My qualifications and Ascendant Group's financials have been thoroughly vetted by your own team."

"Have they?" Cassandra challenges. "Because our investigation suggests that before Ascendant Group, Olivia Knight didn't exist. At least, not under that name."

A murmur runs through the boardroom. This is getting too close for comfort. What has she discovered?

"If you have an actual point to make, Cassandra, please do so," my father interjects, clearly annoyed by the theatrics. "Otherwise, we should proceed with the vote."

"My point, Father," Cassandra says, her voice hardening, "is that we're about to sell a significant portion of our company to someone who may not be who she claims to be. Someone who may have a hidden agenda."

She turns to face me directly. "Who are you really, Mrs. Knight? And why are you so interested in Morgan Group specifically?"

The room falls silent, all eyes turning to me. This is the moment of truth—or rather, the moment to deliver a carefully crafted version of the truth that will satisfy their curiosity without revealing my true identity.

"My legal name is Olivia Knight," I begin, my voice steady. "Before my marriage, I worked under my maiden name, which I prefer not to disclose for personal reasons. As for my interest in Morgan Group—it's purely business. Your Asian division has potential that your current management hasn't been able to realize."

The subtle dig at Cassandra's leadership doesn't go unnoticed, judging by her tightening expression.

"And your sudden appearance in New York society?" she presses. "Your convenient marriage to one of the city's wealthiest bachelors?"

"My relationship with my husband is not relevant to this transaction," I reply firmly. "But since you insist on making it an issue—Ethan and I have known each other for years. We chose to keep our relationship private until recently, when circumstances allowed us to formalize our commitment."

Not entirely false—we have known each other for years, though only as strangers who shared one drugged encounter that produced our son.

"This is absurd," Marcus interjects, playing his role perfectly. "Mrs. Knight's personal history has been fully disclosed to Morgan Group's legal team as part of the standard due diligence process. If Ms. Morgan has concerns, she should have raised them through proper channels, not as a last-minute disruption to a board vote."

My father nods in agreement. "He's right, Cassandra. If you had substantive concerns about Ascendant Group or Mrs. Knight, they should have been addressed during the due diligence phase."

"I only received this information last night," Cassandra insists, shooting a glance at Diana, who remains suspiciously quiet throughout this exchange.

"From what source?" I challenge. "Because it sounds like you've been conducting a personal investigation outside official channels, which raises serious ethical questions."

Several board members nod at this point, their expressions suggesting Cassandra is losing ground.

"The source is irrelevant," she snaps. "What matters is that we're about to make a major decision without full information."

"I disagree," my father says firmly. "The board has reviewed the acquisition proposal thoroughly. Mrs. Knight and Ascendant Group have provided all requested documentation. Your personal suspicions, without concrete evidence, are not grounds to delay this vote."

Cassandra looks stunned at my father's dismissal of her concerns. "Father, you can't be serious. There are too many unanswered questions here."

"The only relevant questions pertain to the business transaction," he replies. "And those have been answered to my satisfaction."

He turns to address the full board. "Unless anyone has substantive business concerns about the acquisition terms themselves, I suggest we proceed with the vote."

Cassandra looks around the table desperately, seeking allies, but finds none. The other directors seem eager to move past this uncomfortable confrontation.

"All those in favor of accepting Ascendant Group's acquisition offer for the Asian division," my father repeats, "please raise your hands."

This time, hands rise without interruption—nine out of thirteen directors, a clear majority. The acquisition is approved.

"The motion passes," my father announces. "Our legal teams will finalize the paperwork. Thank you all for your time."

As the meeting breaks up, Cassandra storms out without a word, Diana following close behind with a calculating expression that suggests this battle is far from over. The other directors offer congratulations as they file out, leaving me alone with my father and our respective legal teams.

"Mrs. Knight," my father says, extending his hand. "Congratulations on a successful acquisition. I look forward to working together to ensure a smooth transition."

I shake his hand, maintaining my professional demeanor despite the surreal nature of this moment—my own father congratulating me on acquiring a piece of what should have been my inheritance.

"Thank you, Mr. Morgan," I reply. "I believe this partnership will benefit both our companies."

As our legal teams begin discussing next steps, my phone buzzes with a text from Ethan: "How did the vote go?"

I type back quickly: "Approved. Details later."

His response comes immediately: "Congratulations. Dinner tonight to celebrate? I've arranged something special."

I hesitate before replying. After last night's conversation about making our marriage "more real," a celebratory dinner feels loaded with implications. But refusing would seem odd given the professional milestone.

"Sounds good," I reply finally. "Where and when?"

"7 PM. I'll send a car. Wear something nice."

Something nice. Code for formal, which means he's planned something elaborate. Another step deeper into our public performance as the perfect power couple.

As I gather my materials and prepare to leave the boardroom, my father approaches again, his legal team having stepped away.

"Mrs. Knight," he says, his voice lower now that we're relatively alone. "May I speak frankly?"

"Of course," I reply, curiosity overriding caution.

"I apologize for my daughter's behavior today," he says, surprising me with his directness. "Cassandra can be... overzealous in protecting what she sees as her interests."

"No apology necessary," I assure him. "Business acquisitions often stir strong emotions."

He studies me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "You handled yourself remarkably well. It reminded me of..." He pauses, something like pain flickering across his face. "Never mind. An old memory."

My heart pounds. Does he see the resemblance? Is some part of him recognizing his true daughter beneath the changes in my appearance?

"Mr. Morgan," I say carefully, "is everything alright?"

He shakes himself slightly, as if dispelling unwelcome thoughts. "Yes, yes. Just the ramblings of an old man. You must forgive me."

"Nothing to forgive," I reply, fighting to keep my voice steady.

"You know," he continues, his tone becoming conversational, "I had a daughter once. Not Cassandra—another daughter, from my first marriage."

The unexpected mention of myself—my former self—nearly shatters my composure. "Oh?" I manage, the single syllable barely audible.

"Yes," he says, his eyes distant with memory. "She would have been about your age now. Brilliant with business strategy, like you. She had a particular interest in Asian markets, actually."

"What happened to her?" I ask, unable to resist.

His expression darkens. "She made some poor choices. Got involved with drugs, inappropriate relationships. It destroyed her career, her reputation. She left New York five years ago. I haven't heard from her since."

The lies Cassandra fed him, presented now as established fact. It takes every ounce of self-control not to contradict him, not to scream the truth in his face.

"I'm sorry," I say instead, the words tasting like ash. "That must be difficult for you."

"It was," he admits. "For a long time. But life goes on. Cassandra has stepped into the role, though..." He hesitates, then sighs. "Well, she tries her best."

The implicit comparison—Cassandra's failures against my remembered successes—would be satisfying if it weren't so painful to hear him speak of me as a lost cause, a disappointment, when I'm standing right in front of him.

"Perhaps your daughter found her own path," I suggest carefully. "Created a new life for herself."

"Perhaps," he agrees, though his tone suggests he considers this unlikely. "In any case, I look forward to working with you on this acquisition, Mrs. Knight. You bring a fresh perspective that Morgan Group needs."

"Thank you," I reply, gathering my composure. "I believe this is just the beginning of a productive relationship."

More true than he could possibly imagine.

As I leave the Morgan Group building, emotions I've kept carefully controlled for years threaten to overwhelm me. Rage at the lies my father still believes. Grief for the relationship we once had. Satisfaction at this first step toward reclaiming what's mine. And beneath it all, a gnawing uncertainty about how far I'm willing to go to complete my revenge.

Because now it's not just about me anymore. It's about Leo, who's forming attachments to his new family. It's about Ethan, who's suggesting our marriage become more than a business arrangement. It's about the life I'm building that's beginning to feel less like a means to an end and more like something I might actually want to preserve.

Complications I never anticipated when I set this plan in motion five years ago.

My phone buzzes with another text from Marcus: "Cassandra and Diana headed to Pierce mansion. Emergency meeting called. They're planning something."

Of course they are. Today's defeat won't stop them—it will only make them more desperate, more dangerous.

I need to be ready for whatever comes next. The acquisition is just the first move in this chess game, and my opponents are far from checkmated.

As my car navigates through Manhattan traffic toward Ascendant Group's offices, I steel myself for the battles ahead. I've come too far to turn back now, regardless of the unexpected complications developing in my personal life.

The revenge I've planned for five years is finally in motion. And nothing—not Cassandra's suspicions, not Diana's schemes, not even my growing feelings for Ethan—can be allowed to derail it.