“Thank you,” I said.

Priya sat on the edge of the velvet sofa, her laptop open as she watched the ticker on the corporate accounts.

“The frozen funds have been routed back to our primary operating account,” Priya said. “The line of credit is fully restored.”

“And the board?” I asked, turning to Julian.

“They have signed the resolutions,” Julian said, pulling a stack of documents from his briefcase. “They had no choice. With the evidence of Bennett’s embezzlement, they either had to support you or face criminal charges for negligence.”

I walked over to the desk, took the heavy fountain pen from the stand, and signed my name at the bottom of each page.

“The name,” I said, looking at the corporate seal. “I want it gone.”

“The legal paperwork to strip the Whitlock name from the brand is already filed,” Julian said. “As of tomorrow morning, the company will be known as Monarch Luxe Hospitality.”

“Good,” I said. “Let the old name burn with him.”

We left the penthouse twenty minutes later, leaving Marta to secure the apartment.