The Cruel Daughter-in-Law Fed Her a Scrap of Cold Meat — Until the 70-Year-Old Widow Called the Real Estate Attorney

Daniel laughed, a loud, arrogant, and entirely confused sound.

"The sole owner?" Daniel scoffed, adjusting his gray jacket. "I am the sole owner, Sterling. My father died. I inherited the throne. Have you lost your mind?"

"He hasn't lost anything."

The quiet, incredibly powerful voice echoed from the top of the grand marble staircase.

Everyone in the dining room turned their heads.

Helen slowly descended the stairs. She wasn't shuffling. She wasn't weak. She walked with the undeniable, terrifying grace of a matriarch who had spent forty years building an empire from the ground up. Her navy jacket suddenly didn't look old; it looked like absolute royalty.

Daniel’s jaw dropped. "Mom? What are you doing down here? Madison told you to stay upstairs!"

Helen ignored her son completely. She walked straight past Madison, who was hyperventilating in her sequined gown, and took her rightful place at the head of the glass dining table.

"Mr. Sterling," Helen commanded smoothly. "Distribute the documents."

The ruthless lawyer immediately snapped his leather briefcase open. He began handing thick, notarized legal packets to every single venture capitalist sitting at the table. He handed the final packet directly to Daniel.

"What is this?" Daniel demanded, his hands suddenly trembling as he flipped open the folder.

"That is the unsealed will and corporate charter of your late father," Helen stated coldly, staring dead into her son's eyes. "A document that proves you own absolutely nothing. You are an interim manager. I hold eighty percent of the voting shares. And as of sixty seconds ago, you are officially fired as CEO."