Chapter 3 - The Eightieth FloorBy nine o’clock the next morning, the temperature inside the executive boardroom of Northstar Technologies was sub-zero, despite the state-of-the-art climate control.
The room was paneled in dark Brazilian walnut, featuring a massive oval table surrounded by twelve members of the board of directors. At the far end sat Cynthia Sterling—ex-fiancée, senior venture partner, and the woman who had sold out Nathan’s personal data to the corporate raiders three years ago. She wore a sharp white Chanel suit, her blonde hair pulled back into a severe chignon, wearing the triumphant smile of someone who believed she had already won.
“Well, Nathan,” Cynthia purred, tapping a manicured fingernail against the mahogany table as she reviewed the digital dossier on her tablet. “It appears your midnight deadline has passed. The succession clause dictates that unless you present a verified, long-term partner of undisputed character by nine-fifteen, the board takes temporary administrative control of your voting shares.”
Nathan sat at the head of the table in a bespoke charcoal suit, his expression carved from solid granite. He hadn't touched the sparkling water in front of him. His hands were clasped loosely over the desk, calm, collected, and utterly terrifying.
“The deadline hasn't passed, Cynthia,” Nathan said smoothly, glancing up at the sleek wall clock. “It’s exactly nine-fourteen.”
Before Cynthia could sneer a reply, the heavy double doors at the back of the boardroom swung open.
Every head at the table turned.
I stood in the doorway, wearing a tailored navy pencil skirt and a crisp white silk blouse, my posture rigid, my chin held high. I had spent the last twelve hours agonizing over whether to walk away or walk in, but looking into Nathan’s eyes across that massive room, I knew one thing for certain: I would never let a woman like Cynthia win.
Nathan stood up slowly from his chair. The predatory chill in his eyes vanished, replaced by a sudden, breathtaking flash of reverence.
“Allow me to introduce,” Nathan’s voice rang across the silent room, rich with absolute pride, “my partner, and the future co-trustee of Northstar Holdings: Maya Bennett.”
Cynthia’s smile shattered instantly. She bolted upright from her chair, her face contorting in disbelief. “A data analyst? Nathan, are you completely insane? You’re risking a fifty-billion-dollar enterprise on a low-level employee?”
“She is not a low-level employee,” Nathan replied, stepping around the table to walk toward me, closing the distance between us with deliberate grace. “She is the only person in this building with more integrity than balance sheet.”
He stopped right in front of me, gently taking my hand in his. The warmth of his skin grounded the hurricane swirling inside my chest. He looked down at me, his dark eyes softening into something so tender, so completely unguarded, that the hostile boardroom felt miles away.
“Are you ready for this, Maya?” he whispered softly, loud enough only for me to hear.
May you like
I looked past him at Cynthia’s furious, twisted expression, then back at the man who had risked his entire empire just to keep me by his side.
“Let’s show them how we do analysis,” I murmured back.
