The Frozen Wife Reclaims Her Throne and Destroys the Caldwell Empire
He pulled a leather-bound address book from his coat pocket.
“I have the personal numbers of the three legacy board directors,” he said.
“They served with our father.”
“They will not ignore a call from the majority shareholder.”
Mrs. Ramirez brought me a cup of black coffee, the steam rising in thin gray curls.
“Drink this,” she whispered.
“You need your mind sharp.”
I took a sip of the bitter, hot liquid.
“Let’s start dialing,” I said.
I took Julian’s cell phone and dialed the first number.
Arthur Pendelton had been my father’s closest associate for thirty years.
The phone rang four times before a gravelly voice answered.
“Arthur, it’s Grace,” I said.
“Grace?” he asked, his voice cracking with surprise.
“We were told you were in a private medical facility in Wisconsin.”
“Ethan lied to you, Arthur,” I said.
“I am in Lake Forest, and I am perfectly well.”
“Ethan is trying to lock me out of the company my father and I built.”
“I am calling an emergency board meeting for nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”
“Grace, this is highly irregular,” Arthur said.