Chapter 4 - The False Coronation
At eleven the following morning, the sun poured into the master penthouse of the Tatum Tower.
Camden Tatum stood before the mahogany wardrobe, adjusting the collar of an eight-thousand-dollar bespoke Tom Ford suit. He hummed a low, jaunty tune. Beside him, draped in a cream silk robe that Vicki had purchased in Paris the previous autumn, Jasmine Rivers leaned against the headboard, sipping an iced latte.
“Did you check on her?” Jasmine asked, her lips curling into a petulant pout. “She didn’t sleep in the guest suite. Her car wasn’t in the bay this morning.”
Camden waved a dismissive hand. “Who cares where she crawled off to? Probably went crying to her country club friends or checking into some boutique wellness retreat to play the martyr. That’s what Vicki does when she’s overwhelmed. She vanishes, sulks, and waits for me to apologize.”
“You kicked her pretty hard, Cam,” Jasmine purred, though there wasn't a shred of sympathy in her tone. “Bentley Cross looked terrified. He wouldn’t even toast with us after she left.”
“Bentley is weak,” Camden scoffed, admiring his profile in the full-length mirror. “He forgets who signs his consulting retainers. Last night was a necessary demonstration, Jas. Vicki had been suffocating me for three years. Every time I wanted to expand, every time I wanted to acquire an asset, she started whining about risk reserves and trust covenants. She thought because her family gave us seed money, she owned me.”
He walked over to the bed, leaning down to press a kiss to Jasmine’s exposed shoulder.
“You’re the CEO now. By two o’clock today, the press will publish the restructuring. The board will rubber-stamp the new equity distribution. And once the ink is dry, I’m serving her with divorce papers. I’m giving her two million dollars, the house in the Hamptons, and not a single share of Tatum Meridian.”
Jasmine smiled, her dark eyes gleaming with avarice. “What if she fights the divorce?”
“With what?” Camden laughed loudly, buttoning his jacket. “All the operating accounts are in my name. The company’s legal department works for me. Her father is dead, her grandfather is dead, and Arthur Vance is an ancient relic who spends his afternoons sleeping in leather chairs. She has no leverage, Jasmine. She’s dead weight. And I just cut the cord.”
His smartphone buzzed on the nightstand. Camden picked it up, glancing at the screen. It was an email from Rachel Zander.
*Subject: 2:00 PM Investor Summit - Presentation Finalized.*
*All board members and Series-A representatives confirmed in attendance. Stage set at Grand Plaza. Please arrive promptly at 1:45 PM for mic check.*
Camden smirked, showing the screen to Jasmine. “See? Rachel knows who holds the whip. Even Vicki’s favorite little COO is falling in line.”
“I’m going to replace her next month,” Jasmine said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Rachel looks at me like I’m a criminal.”
May you like
“You can replace her this afternoon if you want,” Camden replied with an easy, magnanimous grin. “Today, we take the kingdom.”
***
