---- Chapter 6 Chapter 6 Aimee Ramirez POV: | didn't wait in the hallway. | didn't pace outside the door like a nervous defendant awaiting a verdict. | went to my office- the one Kyle thought of as his office-and sat in the large leather chair behind the mahogany desk. | swiveled to face the window, looking down at the city sprawling beneath me. It looked different from up here. Calmer. Smaller. More manageable. | had spent years as the engine of the company, hidden away in the machine room while Kyle stood on the bridge, taking the credit for navigating the ship. Today, | had walked onto the bridge and taken the helm. Whether the crew mutinied or fell in line remained to be seen. My assistant, a sharp, fiercely loyal woman named Clara, came in quietly and placed a cup of black coffee on my desk. "Marcus Thorne just sent a text," she said, her voice low. "It's a bloodbath." "Let them bleed," | said, taking a sip of the coffee. It was bitter and strong, the way | liked it. | knew what was happening in that room. Kyle would be blustering, threatening, charming, and cajoling, trying to spin ---- the narrative. He would paint me as a vengeful, scorned woman, using arcane legal tricks to lash out. He would promise Chen and Williams the world-board seats, bigger shares, promotions-if they stood by him. But | had planted my seeds well. For years, | had been the one who actually ran the company. | was the one who approved the budgets, who greenlit the projects, who knew the strengths and weaknesses of every department. Chen's pet project, the one Kyle kept threatening to defund? | had personally secured its financing last quarter. Williams's daughter needed an internship at the most prestigious firm in the city? | had made the call. My loyalty wasn't bought with grand promises. It was built, quietly and methodically, through competence and mutual respect. Kyle's was built on fear and charisma. | was betting that in a crisis, competence would trump charisma. An hour passed. Then another. The silence from the boardroom was deafening. Doubt, a cold, creeping vine, began to twist in my gut. Had | miscalculated? Had his power over them been stronger than | anticipated? Just as | was beginning to consider my next move-the legal challenges, the public fight-the door to my office opened. It was Marcus Thorne. His face was grim, his suit jacket slightly askew. He looked exhausted. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, letting out a long, slow breath. ---- "Well?" | asked, my voice betraying none of the anxiety churning inside me. He looked at me, and a slow, weary smile spread across his face. "Congratulations, Madam Chairwoman." Relief, so potent it was dizzying, washed over me. | gripped the arms of the chair, my knuckles white. "The vote?" "Unanimous," he said. "Once Chen and Williams realized their stock options would be worthless if the company imploded under an SEC investigation for fraud-which is what your poison pill would have triggered-they saw the light. Kyle has been stripped of all executive authority. His shares are frozen. He's been placed on indefinite leave, pending termination." | nodded slowly, absorbing the victory. It wasn't a hot, fiery triumph. It was a cold, quiet satisfaction. The clean execution of a perfect plan. "And him?" | asked. "He didn't take it well," Marcus said with considerable understatement. "He's still in there. Refusing to leave. His... guest... is with him." As if on cue, the sound of a muffled crash echoed from down the hall, followed by Karma's high-pitched, hysterical wail. | stood up and walked to the door. "Clara," | said into the intercom. "Please call security. It seems we have a trespasser to escort from the premises." ---- | turned to Marcus. "Thank you for your support." "You built this company, Aimee," he said, his voice full of a respect Kyle had never shown me. "It was always yours. We just made it official." | walked back to the window. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in defiant strokes of orange and gold. It was the dawn of a new era. My era.