Forced Marriage: My Wife, My Redemption by Lilyheart

Chapter 209: Is Allen family under curse?...

Desmond Allen closed his eyes for a brief moment, a deep sigh escaping his lips. His mind was heavy, his heart pounding. No matter how many breaths he took, calmness refused to come.

His temples throbbed, and the silence of his office felt louder than the chaos that brewed just beyond its walls.

Inside his office, the clock ticked on mercilessly, reminding him of the time he didn’t have. Reminding him that the board of directors and shareholders were waiting in the conference room. Waiting to pounce on him like a lion. Waiting to blame him!!

But no matter how much he tried to calm his nerves, Desmond knew peace would not return anytime soon.

He ran a hand over his face, stretching his neck and shoulders which felt sore and aching.

"What exactly do they want from me?" he muttered to himself, pacing the office. "I can’t change the past, it’s either the Old Man steps down or..."

His voice trailed off.

There was no point. No matter what he said or did, nothing would satisfy them. The pressure was relentless.

Taking a deep breath, Desmond straightened his back, squaring his shoulders. "There’s no way I’m avoiding this."

Decision made, he grabbed his suit jacket, brushed imaginary dust off his sleeves, and stepped out.

The hallway stretched ahead, quiet and clean, but as he approached the slightly ajar door of the conference room, hushed voices slipped out like hissing steam drifting from within to meet him.

He paused just outside, close to the door within a distant to hear the discussion while the board members inside were already deep in conversation.

"A serious countermeasure must be taken. This can’t continue," one of the shareholders said, his tone sharp and urgent.

"I agree," another replied. "I think we need to appoint professional managers to take over temporarily—at least until the Old Man finally makes a statement."

"The Allen family’s personal problems are becoming a liability," said a third voice. "Their internal issues are now affecting the health and future of the company."

"I honestly don’t care about their family drama," someone else snapped. "What I care about is the way they’ve dragged it into the business. They know the company’s name is tied to their legacy!"

Another voice chimed in, calmer but firm. "Shouldn’t we insist Desmond take full control? At least it would minimize the damage for now."

A scoff followed. "How does giving him more control minimize harm? someone countered angrily. Since he’s had temporary control, the company has suffered—stock values dropped, key partnerships lost, confidence shaken. And let’s not forget the recent mass reselling of shares under his watch. It’s a disaster."

Desmond standing outside took a deep breath to calm himself down.

"When Davis was in charge, there were rumors too—but they were different. Scandals, yes, but always involving high society and in a positive way like new product lunch not with an embarrassing episode." He stated, pausing briefly before continuing.

"Those kinds of rumors attract investors, not chase them away. And we made profits!" "Not caught in the media having an affair with a call girl." He lamented with frustration laced in

Desmond’s jaw tightened. His fist clenched at his side. His breathing grew heavier with each word. "So, this was what they thought of me?" He muttered quietly.

Not a leader. Not a capable Allen. Just a mistake. A liability.

It seems I can always and only remain in the shadows of my nephew."

about their profits than

raised his hand to push the door open—when another voice stopped

crippled," said a voice, quieter, but dripping with suspicion. "And instead of fighting back, he

forget—Davis’s parents, Gracia Allen and his wife, both died

problem to bear. But Desmond should at least try to fix the damage. Instead,

is he, anyway?" someone added. "Why hasn’t he shown up? Maybe his assistant didn’t

chair scraping back made Desmond tense. Someone was coming

open the door, Desmond beat them to

pushing the door open

tall figure filled the doorway. His face calm,

toward him. Some eyes flashed with anger, others with

look at

to the main chair at the head of the table and sat down like

by him,

to push him aside, then let

for

here," he said, his voice icy and

your idea of leadership? Is this how a

leaned back slightly, arms crossed. "I didn’t realize I was the leader," he

echoed around the

your nephew you’re talking about. Missing or not,

coming back? Or maybe..." He narrowed his eyes. "Maybe you’re part of

The room fell silent.

director he’d accused blinked, stunned. "What are

forward instead, his voice

supporters in this room. Even in his absence, some of you still speak for him more than

Silence.

expressions in the room

Others exchanged glances. One man

tension swept over the room

Then, suddenly—another sound.

far end

whispers filled the

asked, watching them. He noticed how their expressions

a tablet. Another leaned over

A few turned pale.

repeated, more

phone. "There’s news. It’s all over

his eyes.

says Davis... Davis

silence settled

"That