Page 89 of Bound By Blood and Lies

“She is correct,” Harding’s gaze flicks toward her with something that almost looks like respect. “In the event of a founder’s absence, their spouse may assume proxy voting rights until the matter is resolved.”

At this point I’d take the month and wait for the council. It’s not like I haven’t been chasing this for weeks. Waiting has practically become part of it. I swallow down a growl as Mum inclines her head slightly.

“Thank you,” she says in a smooth, almost polite tone before her gaze sweeps back across the table. “So, unless anyone would like to formally challenge the bylaws themselves, I suggest we continue.”

Silence settles over the room again.

I don’t move, don’t give them anything, but inside it feels like everything is shifting too fast to keep hold of. This is calculated. And I hate myself for not seeing it sooner. My mind twists, trying to place the moment it changed, when my dad got to her, or if she was ever ours at all. Whether she was sent to save Fae… or to get close enough to take all of us down instead.

Between the eight of us, we were never exactly raised by healthy parents. Mine felt like the last one standing. It’s insanehow quickly that can fall apart. Beside me, Fae’s grip tightens around my hand, but I don’t look at her. My eyes stay locked on my mum as she leans fully back into the chair, settling into it like it’s hers.

“Shall we take the vote again,” Mum says, “or shall I just cast mine?”

They stare at her like they’re trying to work out whether she’s bluffing or if she really has just walked in here and taken control of something none of them were ready to give up.

“I’m not changing my aye,” Parson says finally in a cool, detached tone.

“Neither am I,” Snider adds sharply, his gaze hardening as it lands on her. “You and your husband should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“Enough,” Strickland snaps, straightening in his seat. “You will not influence her vote with guilt.”

Mum doesn’t react to any of it. Not the accusation, not the tension, not the way the room is starting to fracture around her. She simply squares her shoulders, composed as ever, before letting her gaze move across each of them in turn.

“Are any of you changing your vote?” she asks calmly.

A chorus of no’s follows, some immediate, some reluctant, but none of them shifting. I swallow hard and, for the first time since she walked in, she looks at me properly.

“Roman,” she says, and there’s something in her tone that feels familiar, “as your mother, it has always been my duty to protect you, even if that meant protecting you from yourself. I have watched you grow from a baby into the man sitting in front of me now, but that does not influence my decision here.”

I try to read her, to understand where this is going.

“My decision is based on what is best for The Company. What secures its future,” she continues in an unwavering tone. “Somemight say being placed between your husband and your son is an impossible position to be in. I don’t agree.”

Her eyes flick briefly to Fae.

“It’s the easiest decision I’ve ever had to make.”

The room stills. It’s not quiet in a natural way. It’s heavy, like the air has been sucked out and no one quite knows how to breathe again. My grip tightens against the edge of the table. No one moves. No one speaks. Every eye is locked on her, waiting, bracing, like the entire room is balanced on whatever word comes next.

“My vote, in proxy of my husband, to remove him from his position…”

She pauses and I hold my breath as I see a twinkle in her eyes. “…is aye.”

The word hits like a crack through the room. A broken sound tears from my throat before my head snaps toward the others as relief ripples through them. Atlas exhales hard, Riggs drags a hand over his face, Victor’s shoulders drop like he’s just been released from something. Felix drags Robyn closer to his body as Fae shakes next to me.

“What?” Harding barks, shooting to his feet. “You can’t do that?—”

“I think you’ll find I can,” she replies smoothly, a faint smirk pulling at her lips as her eyes flick back to me, followed by a subtle wink.

The whiplash of it leaves my hands unsteady as everything I thought just seconds ago shifts violently in the other direction.

“How could you choose him over your own husband?” Harding spits, his face turning red.

“How could you choose a rapist over him?” she fires back.

“He’s a child!” Harding splutters, his voice climbing as he points across the table.

“He’s a leader,” my mum snaps back. Her lips curl as a venomous anger flashes in her eyes whilst she leans forward. “You’re protesting this far too much, Harding. Is there something you’d like to share with the rest of us?”