At nine in the morning, the main boardroom of PT Hartono Jaya Utama was thick with palpable tension. The large, oval conference table was surrounded by minority shareholders and executive directors. At the head of the table sat Aileen with effortless grace, clad in a formal black blazer. Her long hair was neatly tied back, and her sharp gaze radiated the unyielding authority of an absolute heiress who could no longer be underestimated.

In the primary seat across from her, Rehan sat restlessly. His shirt was slightly rumpled, and beads of cold sweat dampened his temples. Since the crack of dawn, he had been bombarded by notifications from the bank and the finance department reporting massive blocks on fund authorizations.

"Good morning, everyone," Aileen's voice cut through the silence of the boardroom, sounding calm yet commanding absolute control over the entire room. "Today, I deliberately called for an extraordinary meeting to transparently evaluate the progress of the expansion project led by none other than our husband and managing director, Rehan Baskoro."

Rehan instantly bolted out of his chair, his face flushed with overwhelming fury and panic. He slammed both palms down onto the conference table. "Aileen! What is the meaning of this?! An emergency meeting like this has never been on the corporate agenda! You have no right to unilaterally take over a project evaluation without my approval as managing director!"

Aileen did not cower in the slightest. She looked up, fixing Rehan with a cold smile etched thinly across her lips.

"No right, Rehan?" Aileen flipped open a financial document in front of her. "According to the corporate charter and the seventy-five percent majority ownership clause, I am the absolute owner of this company. Every single budget expenditure and stalled project must be audited transparently before the shareholders."

The boardroom suddenly erupted into murmurs. Minority shareholders began whispering amongst themselves, casting suspicious glances toward Rehan.

"Let us look at page four of this independent auditor's report," Aileen continued in a voice so calm yet piercing. She pointed to a row of figures within the document. "There is a fund flow amounting to five billion rupiah allocated for fictitious project material procurement in the northern sector, which has zero physical work records on the ground. Rehan, can you explain to the shareholders where that money went?"

Rehan's heart felt as though it had dropped out of his chest. Every drop of blood in his body instantly turned cold. That document... it was the trail of secret transactions he had used to funnel company funds into his personal holding account to finance Clara's luxury apartment.

"T-that... that is merely an internal bookkeeping error!" Rehan stammered violently, his cold sweat turning into a heavy stream. "The finance team is correcting it! Don't go throwing around wild accusations in front of the shareholders, Aileen!"

"A bookkeeping error?" Aileen let out a light chuckle—a chilling laugh that made the hair on everyone's arms stand on end. "Five billion rupiah flowing into an account under the name of a shell company founded just last month. Do you think these shareholders are fools whom you can deceive so easily, Rehan?"

The shareholders began raising fierce protests. A senior director stood up and glared angrily at Rehan, "Mr. Rehan! If there has indeed been embezzlement of funds on that scale, we demand an external legal investigation take place today! This company must not be sacrificed for personal interests!"

Rehan was cornered completely. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but not a single word escaped his constricted throat. He stared at Aileen with eyes full of hatred and overwhelming dread. The naive wife who once bowed submissively to him had transformed into a ruthless executioner ready to tear his life to shreds.

In a separate location a few kilometers away from the skyscraper, a luxury black sedan parked quietly in the basement of a private cafe.

Inside the comfortable cabin, Damian sat with his legs crossed, staring down at his tablet screen displaying real-time digital investigative reports. Seated next to him was a neatly suited man—the head of his trusted private investigative team—who was laying out critical data.

"Master Damian, per your instructions, we have tracked all outgoing fund flows from Mr. Rehan's corporate accounts," the investigator reported, handing over a thick file. "A large portion of the company funds was indeed misused to purchase a luxury apartment unit in the elite Menteng district under the name of a woman named Clara Santoso, who works as his personal secretary."

Damian accepted the file. He flipped page through page, examining every transfer receipt, photographs of Rehan and Clara's intimacy, and copies of the luxury property deeds purchased using Hartono corporate funds.

The corners of Damian's lips curved upward into a cold, lethal, crooked smile. "Good. Keep all copies of these proofs safely stored away. We will not hand everything straight to the police just yet. Let Rehan experience the mental pressure that slowly chips away at his sanity first."

"Very well, Master. Are there any further orders?" the investigator asked obediently.

"Keep monitoring Clara's movements. That woman is the weakest link that will cause Rehan's fortress to collapse from within," Damian commanded firmly before waving his subordinate out of the vehicle.

Back in her primary office on the upper floor, Aileen leaned back leisurely in her executive leather chair. A cup of warm coffee billowed steam on her desk, while before her, a large monitor displayed the downward stock movement chart of PT Hartono Jaya Utama.

Due to the sudden fund freeze and the financial scandal leaking into internal circles, the company's stock chart showed a sharp red downward trend. Investors were panicking, and business partners were pulling out one by one.

Aileen took a slow sip of her black coffee. It tasted bitter, but on her tongue, that bitterness felt as sweet as victory.

"This is only the beginning, Rehan," Aileen murmured softly to her own reflection on the monitor screen. "It is nothing compared to the pain you inflicted upon me in my past life."

Suddenly, the sound of a fast, heavy knock echoed from outside her door. Before Aileen could answer, the door shoved open aggressively.

A fashionable woman clad in a tight designer dress with heavy makeup barged in, breathing heavily with a face flushed red with uncontained rage. Clara. The mistress had arrived uninvited, entirely forgetting corporate etiquette.

Aileen was not surprised in the least. Instead, she looked up, folded her hands across her desk, and gazed at Clara with a disdainful stare.

"Well, well... welcome to my office, Madam Clara," Aileen said in a calm tone laced with sharp mockery. "It seems the front entrance of this building has a receptionist bell; why are you waltzing in like someone who's lost her mind?"

Clara slammed her expensive handbag onto Aileen's desk, causing the coffee cup nearby to slide. The woman glared at Aileen, her chest heaving as she struggled to contain her exploding emotions.

"Aileen! Don't play dumb!" Clara shrieked in a high-pitched voice, tossing aside any boundary between superior and subordinate in the company. "What do you mean by freezing all credit card facilities and cutting off my monthly apartment fund allowance through the finance department?! You did this just to humiliate me, didn't you?!"

Hearing that accusation, Aileen let out a light laugh—an elegant chuckle that sounded utterly condescending to Clara's ears.

"Humiliate you?" Aileen slowly rose from her chair, walking with grace toward Clara, who stood frozen before her. "Clara, wake up. The money you've been using to splurge on luxury apartments, the designer bags you wear, and your socialite lifestyle... all of that is corporate money belonging to my late father, not money earned through your hard work or that loser Rehan!"

Clara's face turned chalk-white, but she quickly brushed aside her terror by screaming hysterically, "You liar! Rehan promised to give me half of this company's assets! You're just a stupid, clueless wife—"

Slap!

A sharp, violent blow suddenly landed against Clara's smooth cheek, producing a ringing crack that echoed throughout every corner of the room.

Clara gasped loudly, clutching her cheek which instantly flared red and hot, her eyes widening in absolute disbelief. She looked up, glaring at the woman before her with overflowing fury.

Aileen pulled her hand back, shaking it off slowly as though she had just touched something unclean. Aileen's gaze flared sharply, far colder than winter ice.

"Remember your place, Clara," Aileen whispered right into the mistress's ear, her voice dripping with lethal poison. "In this company, you are nothing more than a disgusting parasite. And this game... has only just begun for the two of you."