The Billionaire's Silent Wife (Ryan and Eve) novel Chapter 127

Chapter 127 – The Exit Strategy 2

Ryan considered him for a moment. “Now,” he said slowly, “I put distance between myself and everything they built.”

Tevin frowned. “Meaning?”

“Meaning,” Ryan replied, “I’m not going to be the heir who goes down with the ship.”

Tevin’s expression sharpened. “You think it’s that bad?”

“I think,” Ryan said, “that Steven hasn’t even started yet.”

Tevin was quiet for a beat. “You’re planning something.”

“Yes.”

Tevin studied him for a moment, then nodded once.

“Alright,” he said. “Just don’t forget you’ve got people in your corner.”

Ryan’s lips twitched. “I know.”

Tevin gave him a quick salute and slipped out of the office, closing the door behind him.

Silence again.

Ryan exhaled slowly, then reached for his phone.

He had been circling this decision for days, weeks, if he was honest. Running numbers in his head at night while Eve slept beside him. Weighing options in the shower. Staring at the ceiling at three in the morning and imagining what it would mean to finally, fully step out of his parents’ shadow.

He scrolled through his contacts and tapped the number he wanted.

His lawyer answered on the second ring.

“Ryan,” the man said, voice brisk but warm. “I was expecting your call.”

Ryan raised an eyebrow. “That obvious?”

“You only call me this early in the week when you’re about to make a move,” the lawyer replied. “What’s on

fire?”

Ryan glanced around the office. “The building,” he said. “Slowly.”

A small pause. “I see.”

“I want to float a new company,” Ryan said without preamble. “One that has nothing to do with Ashbrook

Corp.”

“Separate sector?” the lawyer asked. “Or similar?”

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Compter T The Exit Strategy 2

“Separate,” Ryan said. “But comparable in strength. I want an entity that stands on its own legs. Clean.

Unconnected to my parents’ mess.”

There was another pause, longer this time.

“I understand,” the lawyer said carefully. “We’ll need to discuss conflict-of-interest concerns. Stakeholder

reactions. The optics,”

“I’ve considered all of that,” Ryan cut in. “And I believe Ashbrook Corp is going down.”

The lawyer didn’t speak for a second.

“Because of the scandals?” he asked finally.

“Yes,” Ryan replied. “And because I don’t intend to go down with it.”

He spun his chair slightly, looking out at the skyline.

“The insider trading investigation isn’t going away,” he continued. “Steven isn’t going away. My parents are digging in instead of cooperating. I won’t be collateral damage when the walls finally cave in.”

The lawyer exhaled slowly. “Understood. Then we’ll treat this as an exit strategy for your personal assets.”

“Exactly.”

“You understand,” the lawyer went on, “that moving your personal earnings into a new entity will raise questions. The board will assume you know something they don’t.”

“I do know something they don’t,” Ryan said. “I know my parents. And I know Steven.”

A faint dry chuckle came down the line. “Fair enough. We’ll structure it cleanly. Discreetly. You’ll need a very clear separation, no shared accounts, no overlapping boards, no loans from Ashbrook to the new

entity.”

“I don’t want a dime from them,” Ryan said. “This will be funded entirely from my earnings and

investments since I took over as CEO. Salary. Bonuses. Dividends. Everything I’ve personally made. That’s

mine.”

“Legally, yes,” the lawyer agreed. “But perception,”

“Perception,” Ryan interrupted, “can scream whatever it wants. I’ve committed no crimes. I refuse to pay for the crimes of my parents.”

The lawyer hummed thoughtfully. “What kind of structure are you imagining?”

“Holding company,” Ryan said. “With room to acquire or start smaller subsidiaries. I want flexibility. If Ashbrook collapses, I want somewhere solid to land my people.”

“Your people?” the lawyer repeated.

“The ones who stayed loyal,” Ryan clarified. “The ones who did their jobs and didn’t participate in any of this. I’m not dragging everyone down because two people couldn’t tell the truth.”

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1 see,” the lawyer said. “So this isn’t just about you.”

“It starts with me,” Ryan replied. “But no, it’s not just about me.”

There was a rustle of papers on the other end. “We’ll need a name,” the lawyer said. “At least a working

one for the documents.”

Ryan was quiet for a moment.

“Reclaim Holdings,” he said at last.

The lawyer repeated it, testing the sound. “Reclaim Holdings. Interesting choice.”

“I’m reclaiming my life,” Ryan said simply. “And my work. And whatever future I still have after this mess.”

“Then Reclaim it is,” the lawyer replied. “I’ll begin drafting the incorporation documents. We’ll also quietly update your prenup and will to reflect the new structure. If Ashbrook gets sued into the ground, your

estate should remain ring-fenced.”

“Good,” Ryan said. “Send everything to my personal sss. Not the company’s.”

“Of course,” the lawyer replied. “One more thing, timing. If we move too fast, it will look like you’re running.

If we move too slow,

“I am running,” Ryan said bluntly. “I just intend to do it legally.”

The lawyer chuckled once. “Understood. I’ll find the balance. We’ll begin immediately.”

“Thank you,” Ryan replied, and ended the call.

He remained seated for a long moment after, phone still in his hand, staring at the black screen.

He planned to move every cent he had earned since taking over Ashbrook Corp.

Not a theft.

Not a betrayal.

His earnings.

His labour.

His vision.

He would let the board keep their illusion of control over the building. The name. The logos printed on

glossy brochures. They could have all of it.

He wanted something else.

He wanted out.

The office suddenly felt smaller. The glass walls, once a symbol of transparency, now felt like a display case. He could almost imagine investors, reporters, and vultures pressing their faces to it, waiting to see

whether he would shatter or not.

Ryan smiled despite himself. “Did you fix it?”

“Of course,” she replied. “I’m not a monster.”

He leaned back, letting the sound of her voice wash some of the tension from his shoulders. “Have you

eaten?”

“Yes, Dad,” she teased. “I ate. Twice. I’m fine. The baby is fine. Stop worrying.”

“I’ll stop worrying when you’re sleeping sixteen hours a day,” he said.

“That sounds like heaven,” she admitted. “But no, I’ll get bored.”

“Good,” he said softly. “I like hearing you this… happy.”

She was quiet for a second. “You sound tired,” she murmured.

He hesitated. “Long morning.”

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