Chapter 10
May 30, 2025
“Let me be clear,” I said, setting the folder on the table like a guillotine. “We found six accounts. Money’s been bleeding for eighteen months. You either explain it now, or you walk.”
One of them started stammering. “There was a restructure, budget lines crossed-”
“Save it,” I snapped. “You really thought no one would trace offshore payments labeled vendor wellness funds?” He shut up. Two minutes later, the room emptied. One resigned on the spot. The other was escorted out by security. No drama. No begging. Just panic rippling across the floor like blood in a shark tank.
By lunch, three assistants had quit, half the legal team requested a meeting, and people were straight-up avoiding eye contact when I walked past. Good. Let them fear me. Respect would come later.
By the time my first executive status meeting rolled around, they were sitting straighter. Phones off. Folders open. Nobody dared speak unless spoken to. I didn’t need to perform. I didn’t need to soften. I just stood at the head of the table and owned it.
“This company has run for too long on legacy over logic,” I said. “That stops today.”
One man across from me cleared his throat. “You’re moving fast-”
“Fast saves us,” I cut in. “Slow is what got us here.” The room went dead quiet again. Another VP tried to speak.
“With all due-”
“Don’t,” I said, flat and firm. “If you have to lead with ‘respect,’ I already know you don’t mean it.” He swallowed whatever excuse he had and sat back. That was the thing about power. When you stop asking for permission, people stop assuming you’ll need it.
The meeting wrapped just before noon. Most of the team cleared out like the building was on fire. But I stayed. Legal documents spread across the table. Half a coffee gone cold beside me. My head was pounding, but I focused. And then I felt it. Eyes. The kind that didn’t blink.
“Subtle’s not your thing, huh?” I said without looking up.
Damon, Monroe’s golden boy. The protégé with the pristine resume and the sharp gray eyes that missed nothing. He stood near the window, backlit by sunlight like he belonged in a stock photo for executive dominance. One hand in his pocket, the other holding a tablet he hadn’t touched in ten minutes.
“I’ve been watching you burn half the department alive all morning,” he said. “Just wondering if I should bring marshmallows.”
I looked up. “Do you have an actual point, or are you just here for the commentary?”
“You’re swinging hard,” he said, walking toward the table. “Fast promotions. Public terminations. That kind of heat invites backlash.”
“And silence invites rot.”
He cocked his head. “You think fear’s the same thing as loyalty?”
“I think fear gets results when loyalty takes too long to show up.” He smiled, but not kindly.
“You know, most people earn their team’s trust before decapitating their favorites.”
“And most people don’t walk into a company they were never supposed to inherit,” I shot back. “But here I am.”
Damon’s expression shifted, slightly. Like I’d said something he hadn’t expected.
“You’re not what I expected,” he said.
“You’re exactly what I expected,” I replied. “Polished. Controlled. And dying to see me fail.”
“Failing would be boring,” he said, voice lower now. “Watching you shake things up? That’s more interesting.”
His eyes locked on mine, unflinching. And for the first time, I realized it wasn’t just disapproval. It was curiosity. Worse, respect is laced with challenges. I gathered my files.
“Keep watching, Ashcroft,” I said, rising from my chair. “You might learn something.”
I walked past him without flinching. But I felt him turn. Still watching, silently. Not judging anymore, just trying to figure out what the hell I’d do next.
