Chapter 2The Walton Shutdown

After a long night of reviewing documents, I calmly picked up the phone and called my secretary.

"Prepare the divorce papers."

My marriage to Elara had been arranged by my grandfather. He and the old Mr. Walton were friends for decades, and he’d promised that Elara would marry the heir to the Hearst fortune. The problem was, there were two Hearst sons, and my grandfather had never officially named his successor.

Shawn, as the eldest, was assumed by many to be the heir apparent. The Waltons certainly thought so. But they didn't understand the Hearst way: power is earned, not inherited.

While I never intended to fight my brother for control, I understood my duty. While he was living a life of excess and debauchery in the city, I was burning the midnight oil, studying abroad. While he was throwing his weight around as the firstborn son, I was learning the intricacies of corporate management.

It wasn't until I returned and began my internship at the company that he finally saw me as a threat. But instead of changing his ways, he doubled down. He hired thugs to kidnap me. If it hadn't been for my grandfather's private security detail, who had been protecting me in secret, I would have been ransomed or worse. When that failed, he tried to poison my drink. I only survived because I was rushed to the hospital in time.

After that, the family elders had seen enough. They forced the separation, giving him a generous settlement to be rid of him.

I knew Elara and Shawn were close. I had wanted to call off the engagement, but she had come to me herself. "Caleb, your brother and I are just friends. I want to marry you," she’d said. "You've just returned to the country. My family will be your greatest asset."

My grandfather was eager to see me settled, so I agreed. In the world of corporate mergers and family dynasties, affection is secondary to alliance. But there must be respect. For Elara to continue her affair with Shawn after our wedding was a blatant insult. I had no reason to save her face any longer.

Before my secretary could arrive with the papers, a group of people appeared at my office door.

Leading them were Elara’s parents.

The moment they saw me, they rushed forward and fell to their knees. "Caleb, it's all our fault! We've raised a disrespectful, treacherous daughter!" her father cried. "We've spoiled her rotten. She's always seen Shawn as a brother, that's the only reason she keeps seeing him. We promise, it will never happen again. Please, spare the Walton family!"

Behind them, the entire Walton contingent knelt in unison, their heads bowed, waiting for my judgment.

The silence was broken by a shrill voice. "Let go of me! I'm telling you, Caleb Hearst is no saint!"

Elara was being dragged forward by her cousins. When she saw her family kneeling, her glare intensified. "Caleb! You think bringing my family here will force me to submit to you? You're a despicable, manipulative—"

Before she could finish, her father shot up and slapped her hard across the face.

She stared at him, then at her mother, her eyes wide with disbelief. But her mother offered no comfort, her face a mask of cold fury. "Kneel!" she commanded.

Elara started to argue, but her father clamped a hand over her mouth and shot a look at his brothers. They understood immediately, joining him to force her to her knees.

"Caleb, please, she's just upset, don't listen to her nonsense..." her mother pleaded.

I waved a dismissive hand. "This is a Walton family matter. Settle it at home, not in my office."

Her parents were about to say more when a knock on the door interrupted them. "Mr. Hearst," my secretary said, "the divorce agreement is ready for your review."

Elara struggled against her relatives' grip, the arrogant fire in her voice finally extinguished. "Caleb," she whispered, "are you really going to divorce me?"