Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 445: The chairwoman has arrived

The conference room of Glorious International hummed with low voices as the board members filtered in, one by one, settling into their leather chairs. Laptops clicked open, papers were shuffled, coffee cups were placed neatly beside notepads—but the real attention in the room wasn’t on the agenda.

It was on Hugo.

Whispers followed him like shadows.

He sat at the far end of the table, back straight, expression calm, fingers loosely interlocked as if he had every right to be there. But the glances thrown his way were anything but polite.

"What is he doing here?" one of the senior board members muttered, not bothering to lower his voice. "After losing the project at the last moment, I thought he’d have the decency to cut ties with the Claffords."

Another man scoffed softly. "Decency? You’re expecting too much. I didn’t know he was this thick-skinned. No shame at all. Maybe he still thinks Daniel will come running to save him."

A few quiet laughs rippled across the table.

Hugo heard every word.

Each one landed like a slap disguised as a joke.

His jaw tightened imperceptibly, but he kept his gaze fixed on the dark glass wall ahead, reflecting nothing but his own composed mask. On the outside, he looked unbothered. On the inside, his chest burned.

Thick-skinned.

No shame.

Running to save him.

So that was what they saw now.

Not a partner. Not a strategist. Not someone who had once been indispensable. Just a desperate man clinging to relevance.

Another voice joined in, sharper, crueler. "Honestly, I’m surprised security even let him in. The Claffords have lost their grip. Or maybe Hugo here is just too stubborn to understand when he’s been discarded."

Discarded. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

The word echoed in his head.

Hugo’s fingers curled slowly under the table, nails pressing into his palm. He could almost feel the old power slipping through his hands again—the respect he once commanded, the influence he once wielded in rooms like this.

Now he was a spectacle.

A warning tale.

A man who had gambled everything on one project... and lost.

"What’s next?" another board member said with a smirk. "Is he here to beg? Or to remind us of his glorious past?"

More laughter.

It was casual. Effortless. As if dismantling him was entertainment between agenda points.

Hugo forced a slow breath.

If he reacted, they’d win. If he walked out, they’d be right.

But God, it took everything in him not to stand up and remind them who he used to be—how they had once needed him, how his signature had once opened doors, how his strategies had saved this company more times than they could count.

Now they spoke about him like a parasite that refused to detach.

He could feel the heat creeping up his neck, the humiliation settling deep in his bones. Not just because of their words—but because a part of him feared they weren’t entirely wrong.

What was he doing here?

One of the board members leaned back in his chair, eyes openly contemptuous. "Honestly, Hugo, you have an impressive talent. Not for business—but for surviving embarrassment."

That one almost broke him.

For half a second, his mask wavered.

Inside, something twisted painfully—pride, anger, regret, all tangled together. He wasn’t just losing power. He was losing identity. Respect. The version of himself that once walked into rooms like this and made people stand a little straighter.

Now they laughed.

And he sat there, silent, swallowing the taste of humiliation, knowing the cruelest part wasn’t their mockery.

The laughter was still hanging in the air when the doors to the conference room opened.

Not loudly. Not dramatically.

But with a quiet finality that made several heads turn at once.

Daniel walked in.

His presence didn’t need an announcement. It never had. The room seemed to shift the moment he crossed the threshold—conversations faltering, smirks fading, bodies straightening in their chairs as if an invisible line had been drawn and no one dared step over it.

He didn’t look at Hugo first.

His gaze swept the room instead, slow and unreadable, dark eyes taking in every face, every half-amused expression that hadn’t yet fully disappeared. He set his tablet on the table, unhurried, and took the seat at the head without asking for it.

Silence followed.

The kind that felt heavy. Watchful.

"So," Daniel said at last, voice calm but edged with something lethal beneath it. "Am I interrupting something important? Or was today’s agenda simply mockery and personal commentary?"

No one answered.

The man who had spoken last shifted in his chair, clearing his throat. "We were just—"

"—Entertaining yourselves," Daniel finished for him, finally lifting his eyes. They were cold. Not angry. Worse. Detached. "In my conference room."

A chill went through the table.

Daniel folded his hands. "If any of you are so bored with your roles here that you’ve resorted to dissecting someone else’s relevance, I suggest you revisit your own performance metrics."

A few board members stiffened.

"I don’t recall authorizing a session where you get to decide who deserves a seat at this table," he continued, tone even, precise. "That authority still lies with me."

His gaze shifted then.

To Hugo.

For just a second.

Not sympathy. Not approval. Just acknowledgment.

Then back to the others.

"And since we’re being so comfortable with opinions," Daniel said coolly, "let me make mine clear. Anyone who confuses this company with a playground for cheap arrogance is free to resign. Immediately."

No one breathed.

The man who had mocked Hugo earlier swallowed hard, eyes dropping to his notes.

Daniel leaned back slightly. "Now. Unless someone has something relevant to contribute... I suggest we wait for the chairman and proceed like professionals"

"You are being too arrogant, Daniel. Don’t forget this meeting was solely arranged for the Chairman," the senior member said, his tone clipped, irritation no longer masked. "Not for you to lecture us."

It was Mr. Grant.

One of the oldest men on the board. One of the few who no longer bothered hiding his resentment.

He leaned forward slightly, fingers steepled. "You’ve always had a habit of overstepping. Especially when it comes to him." His eyes flicked briefly toward Hugo, sharp and unmistakably accusing. "You’ve backed Hugo for so long that he started believing he was untouchable. That he could look down on the rest of us."

A murmur of agreement passed through a few members.

Grant straightened, clearly emboldened now that the Chairman’s name was in the air. "But things have changed. The Chairman is here now. And unlike you, she isn’t blinded by misplaced loyalty."

Hugo felt his chest tighten.

So that was it.

This wasn’t just a meeting. It was a public execution, dressed up as corporate formality.

Before he could sink further into that thought, Daniel spoke again.

Calm. Sharp. Unyielding.

"Then let me tell you something, Mr. Grant." His eyes locked onto the older man, the temperature in his voice dropping several degrees. "The man you’re so eager to humiliate received the same invitation for this meeting as every single one of you."

The room stilled.

Hugo’s head snapped up.

He stared at Daniel, genuine shock flashing across his face before he could hide it. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, confusion and suspicion colliding at once.

Invitation?

Then why did this feel like a trap?

For a moment, he couldn’t tell whether Daniel was defending him... or unknowingly stepping into something far more calculated.

Around them, the board members exchanged uneasy looks.

Grant’s lips tightened. "That proves nothing. Invitations can be extended out of courtesy."

Daniel didn’t blink. "No. Invitations to this meeting are not courtesy. They’re intent."

His gaze swept the table again, colder than before. "Which means Hugo’s presence here was approved at the highest level. Not mine. Not yours. The Chairman’s."

That landed differently.

Hugo felt it settle in his gut, slow and heavy.

Daniel, meanwhile, had only just pieced it together.

He hadn’t known Hugo was invited until he walked in and saw his name on the attendance list. At first, he’d thought it was coincidence. Now, hearing the mockery, the hostility, the careful way the board had positioned themselves...

He understood.

This wasn’t about business.

It was about pressure. Isolation. Breaking someone down before the real power entered the room.

They hadn’t invited Hugo to participate.

They’d invited him to be judged.

And as quickly Daniel understood it, Hugo too felt the same.

’Just what in the world is happening. What is he trying to indicate.’

While Hugo was trying to process Daniel’s jaw tightened.

’So that was the Chairman’s game.’

The tension thickened, pressing down on the room like unseen weight. No one spoke now. Even the hum of the air conditioner felt too loud, too intrusive against the silence.

Hugo’s pulse hammered in his ears, his gaze fixed on the doors.

Then the intercom crackled to life.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Chairwoman has arrived."

Every head turned. Every spine straightened.

But it was Hugo who felt it the most—because whoever stood on the other side of those doors wasn’t just the most powerful person in the room.