The next few minutes dissolved into chaos.

Lauren was crying, insisting it was all a misunderstanding.

My mother was shouting about family loyalty.

My father was desperately trying to calm the board members, who were flipping through documents with increasing concern.

When the noise finally subsided, I cleared my throat.

“There’s more.”

I reached into my folder and pulled out another set of documents.

“As CEO and majority shareholder, I have made some executive decisions. First, the transfer of my house to Lauren has been blocked. In fact, I have filed a legal injunction preventing any corporate property transfers without full board approval.”

“You can’t do this,” he snapped.

“Actually, I can,” I said calmly. “I am the majority shareholder. Remember? You structured it that way years ago for tax benefits.”

His jaw tightened.

“That was just a technicality,” he muttered. “I was supposed to retain actual control.”

A tense silence filled the room.

Several board members shook their heads, scribbling notes.

“Thank you for clarifying that, Dad,” I said smoothly. “Anyone else care to admit to corporate manipulation?”

Lauren lunged toward me, her face twisted with rage.

Thomas stepped between us.

“Careful,” he warned. “Attacking a corporate executive during an official meeting carries serious legal consequences.”

Lauren froze, her fists clenched.

“You’re just jealous,” she spat. “You’ve always been jealous of me.”

I let out a short, humorless laugh.

“Jealous of what? That you’ve never worked a single day in your life? That you’ve wasted millions on parties while I built this company from the ground up?”

“Enough.”

My father slammed his hand against the table.

“Olivia, if you continue down this path, you will destroy this family.”

I met his gaze unwavering.

“No, Dad. You destroyed this family when you decided that hard work meant nothing, that responsibility was a joke, and that my dedication was worth less than Lauren’s selfies.”

My father stepped closer, lowering his voice.

“We can fix this privately. There’s no need for the entire board to—”

I raised my voice deliberately.

“Oh, now you want privacy after humiliating me in front of everyone. No, Dad. This gets settled here and now.”

I stood before the board of directors, my posture straight, my expression unwavering.

The weight of years of hard work, sacrifice, and betrayal pressed down on me.

But I refused to let it show.

This was my moment.

The moment to reclaim what was mine.

To set things right.

“As CEO, I am proposing the following immediate measures,” I announced. “First, all personal expense accounts will be frozen until further notice. Second, an external audit will be conducted on all financial transactions to ensure full transparency. And third, the executive leadership team will undergo a complete restructuring to align with the company’s best interests moving forward.”

The room fell into stunned silence, the tension palpable.

My mother shot up from her chair, her face flushed with indignation.

“You can’t do this. You can’t just push us out like this,” she shouted, her voice laced with panic.

I met her glare with calm resolve.

“I’m not pushing anyone out,” I replied, my voice steady but firm. “I am professionalizing the company. The company I helped build. The company I sacrificed for while the rest of you treated it like a bottomless bank account.”

I turned to the board members, each watching intently, some nodding in agreement.

“Who seconds the motion?”

For a moment, there was hesitation.

Then one by one, hands began to rise around the table.

First one, then another, then several more, until the decision was clear.

Across from me, my father slumped slightly in his chair.