Taming the Bitch (COMPLETED)

Chapter XXXIX - Hips Don't Lie

"You are on your own, Mr Walton. You may hold fifteen per cent of the shares, but this is a voting system. If the panel and the major shareholders rule against the project in Germany, then it shall be cancelled. You cannot withstand this alone."

The old man—one of the more grasping shareholders, and notoriously resentful of the Walton Group's absorption of Davis Holding—sat opposite Vincent in the VVIP meeting room, his tone as cold as the polished mahogany table between them.

They had been arguing for nearly an hour over the feasibility of the new German venture: The W Empire, a visionary business complex long conceived by Vincent's grandfather alongside Gabriel Davis himself. It was a cornerstone of their merger; the final piece of a partnership forged even before Vincent's marriage to Gabrielle. The merge was complete—plans drawn, projections finalised—yet approval now lay in the hands of men whose ambitions had begun to stray toward darker, self-serving paths.

Vincent's jaw tightened. With his modest fifteen per cent standing alone against the consolidated forty-five held by men who would sooner carve the company apart than let Gabrielle keep her rightful influence, the outcome looked dire. They did not care for legacy, for employment, nor for expansion into one of Europe's fastest-rising business centres. They cared only for power—hers, specifically.

And Gabrielle, in her grief and absence, had unknowingly fed their hunger.

He cast a pointed look toward Mr Thompson, custodian of the ten per cent that once belonged to Gabrielle—shares stripped from her under the terms of Gabriel's final will. She would eventually inherit the remaining portion, but only upon fulfilling the yet-undisclosed condition her father had set. A condition never delivered to her—not by Vincent, and not by the lawyer who had been unable to find her after Gabriel's burial.

For now, Gabrielle held only thirty per cent of Davis Construction—the very branch responsible for executing the German project. If she had been present, they would possess forty-five per cent combined, a deadlock with these men who circled like vultures.

But she had vanished. And Vincent had been left to weather the storm alone.

"Regrettable, Mr Walton," Mr Kane said with his usual oily bravado. "But Davis Construction will not be financing this business centre. You are welcome to pursue it independently, yet without our support, fifteen per cent is hardly enough."

"Fifty-five per cent now stands against you."

"Fifty-five?" came Thompson's quiet interruption. "My dear Mr Kane, the last I counted, you had forty-five. I have not assigned my shares to either side."

He folded his hands, voice steady.
"And I believe in the project. My vote goes to Vincent."

A murmur rippled through the room, broken by Mr Kane's derisive laugh.

"Even then, you total twenty-five per cent. Still twenty short."

"Perhaps you forget that Gabriel left behind an heiress," Thompson replied mildly.

"Oh, indeed. The heiress..." Kane smirked. "Who is conspicuously absent. And, as the rules state, the vote concludes today—whether every shareholder appears or not. The highest percentage dictates the outcome. And presently, the project meets a rather definitive red li—"

"Only London's traffic lights show red, Mr Kane."

A clear, cool voice drifted across the room. Every man turned.

Gabrielle Walton entered with the composed elegance of someone raised in power and finally ready to claim it. Gasps swept the table as she walked to the head seat—her father's seat—and sat without hesitation.