Rewrite Her Thrilling Life (Lillian and Sebastian) novel Chapter 494

**TITLE: The Billionaire’s Last Obsession series 494**
**CONTENT: Chapter 494 A Dire Situation**

As Henry stepped into the conference room, he was greeted by a sea of anxious faces. The atmosphere was thick with tension; nearly all the directors were present, and every pair of eyes seemed to bore into him, reflecting an unspoken urgency and concern. The air was charged, like the moments before a thunderstorm, and Henry could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on him.

Without skipping a beat, one of the elder board members, his voice gravelly and filled with frustration, broke the silence. “Mr. Henry, we’ve reached a critical juncture here. Surely, you must have something to say?” His tone was accusatory, as if he held Henry personally responsible for the chaos that had unfolded.

Another voice chimed in, sharper and more insistent. “That’s right. The stock has plummeted to unprecedented lows. If you don’t present a viable solution soon, I fear we’ll have no choice but to discuss the possibility of replacing the general manager.” The implication hung in the air like a dark cloud, threatening to unleash a storm.

Henry took a seat at the head of the long, polished table, his expression betraying his growing impatience. “I urge all of you to exercise a bit of patience. I assure you, I am working on a solution, and I will deliver it as swiftly as possible.” His voice was steady, but inside, a storm of panic raged.

“What solution could you possibly have?” another director interjected, skepticism dripping from his words. “Why not just announce your divorce from Vivian? Wouldn’t that resolve everything?” The suggestion was met with murmurs of agreement, a chorus of discontent swirling around the room.

“Exactly,” another voice added, laced with disdain. “What’s the point of keeping a woman like that around if she’s only going to drag you down?”

“No, no,” a different board member interjected, shaking his head vehemently. “If you were to announce a divorce at this moment, the public would vilify you. They would label you as cold and heartless. You cannot afford that kind of backlash.” The voices rose in a cacophony, each one vying for dominance in a heated debate that seemed to spiral out of control.

Henry sat silently, absorbing the chaos around him. Each overlapping voice felt like a hammer striking against his skull, and his thoughts raced dangerously close to the brink of explosion. Desperate for relief, he gripped his head in both hands, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to maintain his composure.

Meanwhile, at the Sinclair residence, the atmosphere was equally fraught with tension. In the master bedroom, Vivian had taken the time to clean herself up, changing into fresh clothes that did little to mask the remnants of her turmoil. She sat at the vanity, her reflection revealing a complexion still marked by the pallor of distress; bruises lingered at the corners of her lips and eyes, silent testaments to the emotional and physical toll of the recent events. She reached for the foundation on the table, her fingers trembling slightly as she contemplated covering her imperfections—but in the end, she set it back down, opting for authenticity over artifice.

The door creaked open gently, and Chloe entered, balancing a tray laden with food. She placed it on the table with a quiet murmur, “Eat a little first.” Her tone was soft, but there was an edge of concern underlying her words.

Before she could turn to leave, Vivian’s voice broke through, thick with emotion. “Do you look down on me too?” she choked out, her heart racing. “Is it that you don’t want me anymore either?” The vulnerability in her voice hung heavy in the air.

Chloe’s response was icy, her gaze unwavering. “You’re overthinking this, Mother. I’ve never considered abandoning you. But I truly don’t understand why—why did you have to do this? Was being Mrs. Sinclair not enough for you? Or was life so comfortable that you sought out some thrill?” The bitterness in her words cut deep, a reflection of the pain she felt.

Vivian’s voice was hoarse, each word a struggle. “I know that whatever I say now may seem futile; but my love for your father, for this family, has never wavered.” The sincerity in her tone was palpable, yet it felt inadequate against the weight of her actions.

It wasn’t until nearly eleven that Henry finally stumbled through the door, supported by the driver, his state a clear indication of his inebriation. He was a shadow of the man he once was, and the sight sent a jolt of concern through Vivian.

She rushed forward, her instincts kicking in as she joined the driver in helping him upstairs to the bedroom. Each step felt like a battle, and she could sense the weight of his despair.

Once inside, she carefully removed Henry’s shoes and jacket, making him more comfortable in his disheveled state. As she wiped his brow, she sat on the edge of the bed, her heart aching as she watched his unconscious face. From his lips came a broken murmur, a haunting refrain: “Why did you do this to me… why…” The pain in his voice echoed in her heart, a reminder of the chasm that had opened between them.

Tears filled Vivian’s eyes as she whispered softly, “I’m sorry, Henry… I’m so sorry.” The words felt inadequate, yet they were all she could offer in that moment.

When morning light filtered through the curtains, Vivian awoke to find that Henry had already left for the company. The house was eerily quiet, the absence of the rest of the Sinclair family amplifying the cold emptiness that surrounded her. It felt as if the walls themselves were closing in.

Just as Lillian had foreseen, Henry eventually promised the board that the launch of a new drug would be the key to alleviating their current crisis. The directors, though begrudgingly, relented, granting him a month’s grace to turn the stock market around. Failure to do so would result in him being stripped of his position as general manager—a fate he could not bear to imagine.