Chapter 3 - The Campaign Strategy
By 9:00 AM on Monday morning, the serene quiet of our home in Columbus was broken by the sharp ring of my encrypted work phone.
I sat at the kitchen island in a silk robe, nursing a black coffee while watching Daniel help Lucas put together a wooden train track on the rug. The morning sun poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows, highlighting the peace we had worked so hard to build.
I looked at the caller ID: Marcus Vance, General Counsel.
I picked it up. "Good morning, Marcus."
"Olivia," Marcus said without preamble, his tone urgent and sharp. "You need to look at the local political feeds right now. Brandon Whitfield is holding a press conference at 10:00 AM at the State Capitol."
I frowned, setting my cup down. "On what?"
"He’s announcing a major legislative package aimed at regulating private biotech trusts—specifically targeting Meridian Biotech’s local research facility in District 14."
I paused. Daniel looked up from the train tracks, instantly reading my expression.
"He's attacking Meridian?" I asked Marcus.
"He's framing it as a 'public safety and anti-monopoly initiative,'" Marcus explained. "He’s claiming that out-of-state global capital—meaning Reeves Global—is buying up local scientific assets and squeezing out small Ohio suppliers. It’s a pure retaliation play, Olivia. He’s trying to show his donors that he isn't intimidated by Daniel."
I hung up the phone and opened my laptop.
On screen, a live feed showed a swarm of local news reporters gathering in the rotunda of the Ohio Statehouse.
Brandon was already standing near the podium, surrounded by his staff, wearing his signature charcoal suit. But he looked tense. His eyes were bloodshot, and he kept checking his phone every twenty seconds.
Daniel walked over, resting a hand on my shoulder, looking down at the screen.
"He’s cornered," Daniel noted quietly. "When weak men get humiliated, they don't reflect. They lash out using whatever public lever they think they still control."
"He thinks Meridian is vulnerable because our state research grant renewal is up for a vote next month," I said, my blood beginning to boil. "He’s using my company, my researchers, and my life's work as a political shield because his ego couldn't handle you putting him in his place at a high school reunion."
"Then let's take his shield away," Daniel said calmly.
"How?"
"You said it yourself on Saturday," Daniel smiled thinly, his eyes turning to hardened steel. "His secrets are already sitting in your lawyer's encrypted inbox."
"You know about the audit?" I asked, looking up at him.
"Olivia," Daniel said gently, pulling up a chair beside me. "I’m the chairman of your board, but I’m also your husband. I knew Brandon Whitfield was funneling municipal development funds into his cousin's shell company three months ago. I was waiting for you to tell me when you were ready to crush him."
I looked at Daniel, a surge of fierce, undeniable gratitude filling my chest.
"I wanted to handle it through scientific channels," I murmured. "I didn't want people to think I was using your power to fight my old battles."
May you like
Daniel reached out, taking my hand in his, his grip warm and steady.
"It’s not my power, Olivia. It’s our power. And Brandon didn't attack a corporation today. He declared war on my family. Let's finish it."
