I Froze the Shares Before He Could Give Them Away Chapter 02

I Froze the Shares Before He Could Give Them Away Chapter 02

Richard leaned back into his chair.

“Fine.” He looked at Arthur Brooks. “Pull up the report.”

Arthur, sitting in the CFO’s seat, soon had a layer of cold sweat on his forehead.

He was the CFO of Vance Enterprises. In my last life, he was responsible for deleting every trace of the trust’s entry records and re-packaging that capital as the Vance family’s original seed money.

I saw his fingers pause for half a second over the keyboard.

Half a second was enough.

Richard said, “Eleanor, I’m giving you this dignity. Once the report is out, you sign.”

I nodded.

“Once the report is out, we’ll talk about who exactly should be signing.”

The screen switched to the financial report.

Arthur was well-prepared. The report stated that the 12% stake in my name came from post-marital asset restructuring, with the capital source being a Vance family capital injection, classified as a marital interest arrangement.

Every page bore the corporate financial seal.

The veteran shareholders began to whisper.

Beatrice straightened her back again.

“See that? Black and white. You, a woman, clutching onto shares and refusing to give them to a child—if word got out, the Vance family’s reputation would be dragged through the mud.”

I didn’t look at her.

I asked Arthur, “When was this report generated?”

“This morning,” Arthur said, forcing composure. “The Board required it on short notice; I issued it based on the accounting system data.”

“System data?”

“Yes.”

I tapped my phone.

Margaret’s voice came through the speaker, crisp and clear.

“Mrs. Sterling, recorded. The opposing party has confirmed on-site at the shareholders’ meeting that the disputed shares originate from the Vance accounting system data.”

Richard’s brow furrowed sharply.

“Are you recording this?”

I said, “When you projected that Deed of Gift onto the screen, you didn’t ask if I had the right to disagree.”

The boardroom doors were pushed open.

Two people in dark suits walked in, holding legal notices.

Margaret Thorne walked in last. She was in her early forties, hair pinned up, with a gaze that was cold and detached.

She placed the documents in front of the Board Chairman’s seat.

“Gentlemen of the Board, as the beneficiary of the Sterling Family Trust, Eleanor Sterling has authorized our firm to apply for a temporary freeze on the disputed equity in her name. Until the dispute over the source and the trust’s tracing review are completed, no gift, pledge, or transfer may be processed.”

The air felt as if it had been sliced open.

Beatrice stood up. “Who let you in here!”

Margaret spared her a glance.

“Security let me in. Because this freeze notice has already been simultaneously submitted to the Transaction Registry and the Board Secretariat.”

Richard’s face turned deathly cold.

“Eleanor, you planned this all along?”

I touched the brooch.

The pin pricked my skin through the fabric—lightly, but serving as a reminder.

In my last life, the edge of the Deed of Gift cut my thumb. After I signed my name, blood smeared the inside of my wedding ring, and Richard didn’t even spare it a glance.

This time, I placed my hands on the table.

Clean and untouched.

“Not all along,” I said. “Just in time to stop you from stealing what’s mine.”

The shareholders’ meeting was forced to a halt.

Richard didn’t explode on the spot.

He was a man who knew how to maintain appearances in public.

After the meeting adjourned, he cornered me in the lounge and locked the door behind him.

“Eleanor, what exactly do you think you’re doing?”

I stood by the window and saw press cars parked downstairs.

I didn’t need to guess who had called them.

Chloe was a master at playing the victim. She did the exact same thing in my last life: cue the tears, then drop a lengthy Notes app confessional on Instagram, claiming she and her child were being driven to the brink by a ruthless socialite wife. Richard would maintain a strategic silence, Beatrice would step forward to recognize Leo as Vance blood, and the internet would tear me apart as a bitter, heirless ice queen holding the family dynasty hostage.

This time, the hashtags were likely already trending.

Richard took a step closer.

“Leo is just a child. By freezing the equity, do you want everyone to see the Vance family as a laughingstock?”

“Why should the Vance family’s dignity be bought with my shares?”

He suppressed his rage.

“The fact is, you can’t have children.”

I looked into his eyes.

“Whose ‘fact’ is that?”