💔 The Founder’s Fury: Ridge’s Ultimatum Breaks Eric’s Heart 💔

Part I: The Silence in the Sanctuary

The CEO’s office at Forrester Creations, usually a place of creative energy and quiet authority, felt like a pressure cooker on Monday morning. Outside, the Los Angeles sun shone brightly, but inside, the air was cold, thick with unresolved tension.

Eric Forrester, the patriarch and founder, sat behind his desk. He wasn’t looking at design sketches or financial reports; he was staring at a blank wall, his posture ramrod straight, a silent picture of dignity under duress.

Across from him, Ridge Forrester leaned against the edge of the desk, his arms crossed, his expression a tight mask of stubborn resolve disguised as concern. Carter Walton, the company’s chief legal counsel, stood off to the side, his usually neutral face creased with genuine worry.

“Dad, we’ve been over this,” Ridge said, his voice flat, devoid of the usual affection that defined their relationship. “It’s not a punishment; it’s a celebration. You are the legend. You deserve to relax. To travel. To finally enjoy your retirement.“

Eric turned slowly, his eyes—eyes that had launched a thousand trends and built an empire—held a profound, devastating disappointment. “Enjoy my retirement, Ridge? Do you think my life is defined by leisure? This company, this design, is my lifeblood. You are asking me to stop breathing.“

The confrontation stemmed from Eric’s heartfelt pitch last week: he wanted to be an active, co-designing partner again, not just a figurehead. He wanted to feel the velvet and the silk, to sketch, to create. Ridge had rejected the idea out of hand, citing Eric’s recent, undisclosed health concerns and the need for the company to focus on the ‘next generation’—Ridge, Hope, and Steffy.

“It’s about your health, Dad,” Ridge insisted, stepping back slightly, trying to sound compassionate. “We don’t want you under this kind of stress. We need you strong and healthy. And we need to protect your legacy. Working yourself into the ground won’t do that.“

“You don’t get to manage my health, Ridge,” Eric countered, his voice gaining a dangerous edge. “That is my decision. What you are doing is managing my relevance. You are trying to put me on a shelf and forget about me!“

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Part II: The Legal Tightrope

Carter, recognizing the emotional damage being inflicted, finally stepped forward, placing himself carefully between father and son.

“Ridge,” Carter began gently, trying to introduce logic into the emotional firestorm. “Eric’s desire to contribute is understandable. His experience is invaluable. Perhaps we could structure a compromise? A consultative role, maybe a small, focused capsule collection?“

Ridge shook his head, instantly shutting down the mediation. “No compromise, Carter. Not on this. I appreciate your input, but this is a personal matter, and it’s a business necessity. Eric needs a complete break. I’ve already spoken with the board about making his retirement official. The paperwork is ready.“

The sheer finality of the statement hit Eric like a physical blow. The ‘paperwork’ wasn’t a suggestion; it was an ultimatum.

“You went to the board?” Eric asked, the betrayal evident in his voice. “You went over my head? Without even a final discussion, you prepared my dismissal?“

“It’s not dismissal, Dad. It’s securing your future,” Ridge argued, the veneer of caring finally cracking, revealing the steel of corporate dominance beneath. “I am the CEO. I have to protect FC. And frankly, your refusal to step back is destabilizing the executive team.“

Eric rose slowly to his full height, his eyes blazing with the same fury that had driven him to create a global fashion house decades ago.

“You have confused ambition with wisdom, Ridge,” Eric declared. “And you have confused leadership with tyranny. You have decided that I am disposable. You have looked at the man who built this entire empire and told him that his time is over.“

Carter watched, heartsick. He knew this wasn’t just a corporate dispute; it was a devastating father-son showdown. He could see Eric’s energy, his life force, draining away with every cruel, necessary word Ridge spoke. Is it too little, too late? Carter wondered, realizing his gentle counsel had been wholly ineffective against Ridge’s immovable will.

Part III: The Threat of Betrayal

The conversation devolved into accusations, the air filled with years of unresolved resentment and pain. Ridge saw a necessary move; Eric saw a catastrophic betrayal.

“You believe you are the only one capable of running this company!” Eric roared, pointing a trembling finger at his son. “You forget that I created this from nothing! I built this so that you, and Thomas, and Steffy, would have a home, a legacy, and a purpose! And now you deny me the very purpose I gifted you!“

“I am securing the legacy, Dad!” Ridge shouted back, finally losing his composure. “And yes, I am the only one who can navigate this market! You can’t see past the nostalgia! You need to trust me!“

“I don’t trust the man who would turn on his own father to prove his dominance,” Eric stated, his voice now dangerously calm.

The silence that followed was broken by a sudden, chilling clarity in Eric’s eyes. The pain was still there, but it was now overlaid with cold, calculating resolve. The founder’s fury was ignited.

“If I am not wanted here,” Eric said, looking pointedly at the retirement papers lying on the desk. “If you refuse to accept me as a team player, then I will not stay where I am not valued.“

He walked to the window, looking out over the city that was his conquest.

“You spoke of a competitor rising up, Ridge? You spoke of securing the future?” Eric turned back, a ghost of a predatory smile touching his lips—the look of a man who still understood how to fight a war.

“You will receive your notice by the end of the week. Not my retirement. My resignation.“

Ridge looked confused, then dismissive. “Fine. You can’t just leave, Dad. You’re a founder; your name is on the door.“

“My name will be on another door soon enough,” Eric warned, his voice a low promise of revenge. “You need new blood, Ridge? You need a modern aesthetic? I will show you what a legend can still do when he is forced to start again.“

The unspoken threat hung heavy: Eric would start a rival fashion house.

Part IV: The Recruits

Carter, stunned, watched Eric walk toward the door. This wasn’t the end of a personal dispute; it was the start of a family and corporate catastrophe.

Ridge, however, remained arrogant. “He’s bluffing. He’s an old man, Carter. He can’t run a new company.“

But Carter had seen the look in Eric’s eyes. Eric was not bluffing.

Later that afternoon, a call went out from Eric Forrester, not from the FC office, but from his private bungalow.

The first person he called was Zende Forrester Dominguez. Zende arrived, nervous and intrigued.

“Zende,” Eric said, pouring him a drink. “How do you feel about Ridge’s management? Are you fulfilled? Or do you feel like a supporting player in a drama that isn’t yours?“

Zende admitted the truth: he often felt cast aside, his work overlooked in favor of the emotional chaos of the Logans and the main Forresters.

“Then come with me,” Eric said simply, laying out his vision. “I am founding a new design house. Pure couture, built on talent and respect. No family politics. I want you as my lead creative partner. Together, we will show Ridge what real design legacy looks like.“

Zende, seeing the chance to step out of Ridge’s shadow and work with the master, immediately agreed.

The second call was to Thomas Forrester, due to return to LA for the holidays.

Eric didn’t waste time on sentiment. “Thomas, you are coming home to a war. Your father is forcing me into retirement. He has suffocated this company with his arrogance. You were unfulfilled the last time I saw you. Come join your grandfather. Bring your genius, your fire, and let’s create something new. A place where you are not judged by your past, but celebrated for your future.“

Thomas, tired of being the family outcast, the ‘reformed villain’ always seeking approval, saw the opportunity. It was a chance to finally prove his worth, not by fitting into Ridge’s box, but by building a bigger, better one.

Part V: The War Declared

By the end of the day, the groundwork was laid for House Élan, Eric’s new venture. The news—a tremor at first, then a seismic shock—rippled through the Forrester Creations walls.

Ridge found Carter in the hallway, looking grim.

“It’s true, Ridge,” Carter confirmed. “He is leaving. And he’s taking Zende. And I hear he’s making a compelling offer to Thomas.”

Ridge finally understood the magnitude of his mistake. He hadn’t just secured FC; he had created its greatest, most dangerous rival. He had pushed the patriarch, the ultimate creative force, into open, corporate warfare.

Eric, sitting alone in his bungalow, looked at his phone, refusing to answer the dozens of frantic calls from Ridge and Brooke. He was no longer the sad, aging father. He was Eric Forrester, the founder, the warrior, and he was finally free.

The father-son showdown had indeed broken hearts, but it had forged a fierce, dangerous resolve. The war for couture supremacy was about to begin, and Eric intended to win.