Chapter 4 - Whispers in the DarkArthur returned three minutes later holding a water-stained blue folder marked Confidential Asset Liquidation.
Inside were draft agreements detailing Benson’s plan to sell off Clark Harbor Development's primary construction machinery assets to an offshore holding firm—at a fraction of their value. The buyer listed was a shell company owned entirely by Diana Whitmore.
Benson was systematically stripping Henry’s company behind his back while he was paralyzed and grieving.
"What is this, Benson?" Henry asked, his voice deathly quiet.
Diana gasped, reaching for her purse. "Henry, it’s not what it looks like! Benson was just trying to protect the firm from bankruptcy!"
"Get out," Henry said. The two words cut through the dining room like jagged glass. "Get out of my house before I call the police."
Benson’s apologetic mask melted instantly, replaced by a bitter sneer. "You think you're still in charge, Henry? You're half a man sitting in a chair! You can't run a corporation, you can't even walk across your own room! Without us, you're nothing!"
Leah stepped forward, placing herself between Benson and Henry, her posture rigid and unyielding. "He told you to leave, Mr. Whitmore. Do it now."
Benson glared at Leah, then grabbed Diana’s arm and stormed out of the house, slamming the heavy mahogany front door behind them.
The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence. Henry stared at the blue folder, his shoulders shaking slightly—not with tears, but with a terrifying, long-suppressed rage.
Leah walked over to his side, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. "Mr. Clark?"
May you like
Henry covered her hand with his own. His grip was tight, desperate, and cold. "They took advantage of my grief, Leah," he whispered, his voice cracking. "They thought I was dead already."
"You're not dead," Leah said firmly, looking down into his dark, fiery eyes. "And it's time you stopped acting like you are."
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