Boardroom to Bedroom

.m., and my bedroom, usually my calm little sanctuary of white sheets and soft morning light, felt l

d through my half-

NCHES HOSTILE TAKEOVER OF

y. My lif

the headline, was a photo of him - Damian Cross. Even on a news site, he managed to look like a poster boy

ently, what he

east my

, my COO, didn't eve

you've s

hand was trembling as I pressed t

d's in a panic. Emergency meeting at nine. Damian Cross himself will be there

augh. "Play nice with the man

oftened. "They're scared.

, throwing off the sheets and heading f

time I was dressed - navy sheath dress, black heels sharp enough to be weapo

in tight little clusters, glancing at me as I strode past. Outside, reporters and cameras were already gathering, the vult

oward me - some sympathetic, some cold, all nervo

was even more imposing than in the photographs. Perfectly tailored navy suit, white shirt

low, smooth, confident. "

at opposite him. "Mr. Cross. I didn't realiz

curved, not quite a smile. "Hostile takeovers ar

held his gaze. "Fo

throat nervously. "Perhap

utting measures. Every sentence felt like another claw in my company's flesh. I countered point for point, my v

To stabilize the company during this transition, you and Mr. Cross will serv

in my ears. "You

the table. "I am. I think

a le

never wavered. "But it's either this, o

w the fear in Sofia's eyes, the desperation in the faces of board members who had

tle smile. "Fine. Six months. But don't think f

enough to be infuriating. "I

uted questions - "Elena, are you stepping down?" "Mr. Cross,

mian, steadying me as a microphone shove

r help," I hissed

es forward, as security cleared a

t he was already striding ah

l glass of the window. Down below, a crowd of journalists and onlookers

u o

id. "But I

e's... not what I e

flicker I'd seen in his eyes during the meeting - something like i

A message from

to working wit

D.

onths. I'd fought my way up from nothing. No billionaire,

he could outplay me, h