Single Mother of a Werewolf Baby

Chapter 168: Emergency Shareholder Meeting

Rage seeped from William’s every pore, warping the air around him like heat off asphalt. His previously good mood shattered into shards. In that moment, he felt he could strangle anyone who so much as irritated him.

Jennifer, sensing the fury pulsing off him, asked again, "Dad, what happened? Why are you so angry?"

William let out a bitter grunt. "What else? Elliot Grant. That son of a bitch."

The words burned on his tongue, but fury clogged his throat, halting further speech. He took several sharp breaths, forcing the fire down before it could consume him.

"He’s called an emergency shareholder meeting. Tomorrow." William’s voice was tight, clipped. "Because of the company’s recent downturn, some of the other shareholders have aligned with him. They’re planning to vote me out."

His jaw clenched so hard it looked as though he might crack a tooth.

Jennifer rolled her eyes. "Why are you even wasting emotion on those circus monkeys? They couldn’t move a single strand of your hair before... they won’t now."

"This time feels different," William muttered. "The company’s situation is worse than it’s ever been."

"Even if they all unite, they still can’t match our shares," Jennifer countered. "We’re the largest stakeholders, Dad. They can’t outvote us."

William’s eyes narrowed. "The moment I heard Eleanor was back in town, I suspected Grant would try something like this. Amnesia or not, if he manages to get her involved, it’ll become a problem."

Jennifer nodded, thoughtful. "Then let’s turn this on its head. Use this opportunity. Show the shareholders that we own the majority. Let them see the truth. Their alliance means nothing."

William looked at her, a hard glint in his eye. "Are you sure we should reveal the transfer deed?"

"I’m sure. It’s time we stopped playing defence. Use the meeting to claim the chairmanship outright. Let them start their rebellion... we’ll end it."

Her confidence was unwavering, sharp as a blade.

William gave a grim smile and nodded. The conversation about the wedding was swiftly set aside. He picked up his phone and began making calls to loyal shareholders, summoning support. Jennifer did the same, rallying her backers and locking down alliances. They had a strategy now. A plan built not just to survive, but to conquer.

With the battlefield forming in their minds, both father and daughter went to sleep, their thoughts already deep into tomorrow.

***

Solutions

room. The air was thick with murmurs and speculation. Staff members, notified the night before, had worked overtime to prepare for what would be one of the most pivotal

Extra security had been stationed at the entrances and key junctions, ready to ensure

leadership might reverse the company’s downward spiral. Others remained sceptical, their optimism buried under

all: something

room

he can’t watch the company crumble any

added. "He built this company with Esmeralda Langford. If anyone

heard William Whitmore is going to make it official.

someone completely new... someone we

murmur of chatter continued to hum through the conference room until the main shareholders and directors began arriving, one by one. Each ascended to the elevated dais at the front of the room, exchanging stiff nods and thin-lipped glances as anticipation rippled through the assembled crowd. The gathered shareholders lowered their voices to hushed tones, their murmurs bouncing off the polished mahogany-panelled

heir to a Midlands manufacturing empire. A striking woman in her forties, her tailored blue business suit highlighted her ageless elegance. Everyone in the room knew Amelia had little genuine concern for EverBuild’s future... her father had invested in its early days, and she had inherited the shares along

man with a ruddy complexion and bushy eyebrows,

her raven hair tucked behind one ear.

with his hands clasped, his piercing gaze flicking across the crowd like a judge surveying

reserved for the chairman, who

of company affairs unless profits were at

a shareholder in her own right. She sat upright, eyes forward, calm in the brewing

was Marcus O’Donnell, Director of Operations. His father had held the same role before him, and the O’Donnell family still owned a

high platform loomed over the assembly, a symbolic divide between the decision-makers and the rest. Yet

a subtle nod, he signalled to the man standing at the far

arm. His voice cut

and gentlemen," he began, his gaze sweeping across the sea of tense faces, "thank you all for attending. Under normal circumstances, this meeting would be a celebration... a reaffirmation of our unity and vision. But unfortunately,

collective hush fell

the screen flickered to life. Lines of data, graphs, and profit projections sprawled across it

has fallen by 45% this quarter," Julian said, his voice as steady as it was damning. "Our credit lines have been slashed. Suppliers are demanding advance payments. Unless we secure an immediate capital injection,

a glance with Dr. Patel. Grant’s knuckles whitened where

to a graph showing five years of financial erosion. "This, ladies and gentlemen, is the trajectory of our company. At this rate, we