Chapter 11: The Reckoning
The following week, Laurent Medical's full legal offensive launched.
Ashford Group's stock plummeted nineteen percent in a single day when the market learned that its core algorithm belonged to an outside party.
Dominic was served papers in his own boardroom.
*Laurent Medical demands immediate transfer of all algorithmic intellectual property. Additionally, $847 million in unauthorized profits generated through stolen technology must be returned with interest.*
The board turned on him overnight. Emergency meetings. Shareholder revolts. Resignation letters piling up on his desk.
He called me. I didn't answer.
He came to my room. I had Callum turn him away.
On day three of the siege, he finally broke protocol and barged past security. Callum moved to stop him, but I shook my head.
Let him come.
Dominic dropped to his knees in front of my chair. No pride left. No armor.
"Tell me what to do," he said. "Tell me how to fix this."
I looked down at him. "You can't."
"I'll give back the algorithm. I'll pay whatever Laurent Medical wants. I'll sign everything over—"
"I don't want your company, Dominic. I built it. I can build another one tomorrow."
His face twisted. "Then what DO you want?"
I leaned forward. "I want you to understand that for sixteen weeks, I was a prisoner in this house. I was poisoned, monitored, stripped of my name, and reduced to a womb.
And you — the father of my child — did nothing. Because you didn't think I was worth asking about."
His head dropped. His shoulders shook.
"I know," he whispered. "I know what I did."
"Do you?" I tilted his chin up with one finger. "Because three days ago, you were still calling me 'the surrogate' in board meetings."
He had no answer for that.
I stood, smoothed my dress over my belly, and walked past him.
"My lawyers will be in contact. The child stays with me. You'll have supervised visitation — if I decide you've earned it."
He stayed on his knees as I left the room. I didn't look back.
But in the hallway, Callum fell into step beside me. "The Ashford matriarch is requesting a meeting."
"Of course she is." I almost smiled. "Tell Mrs. Ashford that Vivienne Laurent doesn't take meetings. She gives audiences."
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Ashford Group's stock plummeted nineteen percent in a single day when the market learned that its core algorithm belonged to an outside party.
Dominic was served papers in his own boardroom.
*Laurent Medical demands immediate transfer of all algorithmic intellectual property. Additionally, $847 million in unauthorized profits generated through stolen technology must be returned with interest.*
The board turned on him overnight. Emergency meetings. Shareholder revolts. Resignation letters piling up on his desk.
He called me. I didn't answer.
He came to my room. I had Callum turn him away.
On day three of the siege, he finally broke protocol and barged past security. Callum moved to stop him, but I shook my head.
Let him come.
Dominic dropped to his knees in front of my chair. No pride left. No armor.
"Tell me what to do," he said. "Tell me how to fix this."
I looked down at him. "You can't."
"I'll give back the algorithm. I'll pay whatever Laurent Medical wants. I'll sign everything over—"
"I don't want your company, Dominic. I built it. I can build another one tomorrow."
His face twisted. "Then what DO you want?"
I leaned forward. "I want you to understand that for sixteen weeks, I was a prisoner in this house. I was poisoned, monitored, stripped of my name, and reduced to a womb.
And you — the father of my child — did nothing. Because you didn't think I was worth asking about."
His head dropped. His shoulders shook.
"I know," he whispered. "I know what I did."
"Do you?" I tilted his chin up with one finger. "Because three days ago, you were still calling me 'the surrogate' in board meetings."
He had no answer for that.
I stood, smoothed my dress over my belly, and walked past him.
"My lawyers will be in contact. The child stays with me. You'll have supervised visitation — if I decide you've earned it."
He stayed on his knees as I left the room. I didn't look back.
But in the hallway, Callum fell into step beside me. "The Ashford matriarch is requesting a meeting."
"Of course she is." I almost smiled. "Tell Mrs. Ashford that Vivienne Laurent doesn't take meetings. She gives audiences."
---