Ethan learned long ago that the real wars weren't fought in boardrooms, but in the moments before you stepped inside. Standing outside the double doors of the Pierce Industries executive conference suite, he checked his reflection—tie straight, jaw tight, eyes ringed with fatigue no amount of caffeine could fix. He rolled his wedding band, a nervous tic he couldn't unlearn. His phone buzzed—an agenda update, Daniel's warning: Richard is stacking the room. Watch your six.
Classic. Ethan pocketed his phone, squared his shoulders, and pushed through.
Inside, the air was colder than usual. Frosted glass, polished walnut, a table long enough to seat an army of enemies. Richard Pierce sat at the head, a king in exile, flanked by board members—some loyal, more opportunistic, all predators in silk ties. Catherine lingered at his right, her posture knife-straight. At the far end, Vanessa, all crimson and composure, offered a smile that didn't touch her eyes.
Ethan clocked it all in a beat. No Aria. He exhaled—relief and regret tangled. She was better off sitting this one out.
"Ethan," Richard said, voice clipped, "thank you for joining us. We've started without you."
Of course you have. Ethan took his seat, letting his poker face slide into place. "I see the agenda's changed."
Richard ignored the barb, folding his hands atop a stack of documents. "We need to address recent…failures. Your division missed quarterly projections by five percent. And I'm told you declined the VanceTech merger—costing us a quarter billion in market cap."
Murmurs around the table. Catherine's lips thinned. Vanessa's gaze sharpened, hungry.
Ethan kept his voice cool. "The VanceTech merger was a trap. Their assets are overvalued, and the due diligence flagged at least three regulatory red flags. If we'd gone through, the SEC would be crawling up our books by next quarter."
Richard pounced. "That's your opinion. I have an independent report from our outside counsel—one you overruled without consulting the board."
Ethan glanced at Daniel, who kept his head down, pretending interest in his tablet. Smart. Ethan scanned the room—every set of eyes calculated, measuring. This wasn't a check-in. It was a public execution.
Vanessa leaned forward, voice velvet-sweet. "We all want what's best for the company, Ethan. But inaction is costly. Perhaps you've had… distractions at home?"
A ripple of amusement moved down the table. Catherine's eyes glittered, unblinking.
Ethan flashed a practiced smile. "My personal life isn't on the agenda. Unless you want to discuss the foundation's leaking donor list?" He let the threat hang. Daniel's warning had been clear: internal sabotage, and not just in finance.
Richard dismissed it with a wave. "We're here to talk business. The shareholders are nervous. Your leadership is being questioned—not just by me."
Ethan leaned back, steepling his fingers. "I've given my life to this company. Every major play for the last five years—Pierce Industries came out on top. If you're ready to throw that away for a quick headline and short-term gain, be my guest. But don't pretend it's about performance. This is about control."
Vanessa's smile sharpened. "Is that why you're blocking the audit into executive expenditures? Or should I ask Aria—she's listed as an alternate signatory on several accounts. Odd, for someone not employed by the company."
Ethan's pulse quickened. He forced a shrug. "She's my wife. I trust her implicitly."
Richard seized the moment. "Trust is earned, Ethan. And lately, you seem more interested in playing house than running a Fortune 500. We need to know where your loyalties lie."
The ambush, delivered. Ethan braced, adrenaline coiling. "If you're calling a vote of no confidence, just say it."
The room shifted, board members exchanging looks. Catherine cleared her throat. "Let's not be hasty. Ethan's record speaks for itself. But optics matter. The market is watching. Perhaps a temporary redistribution of responsibilities—"
Meaning: step aside, take the blame, let the old guard run the show.
Ethan's jaw tightened. "If you want a scapegoat, find someone else. I'm not relinquishing control because you're afraid of change."
Richard's voice dropped, cold and implacable. "Then I guess it's time we took a formal vote."
A heavy silence. Daniel cleared his throat, speaking for the first time. "If I may—there's an open investigation into the VanceTech assets. Ethan's decision may have saved us millions in fines. I recommend postponing any vote until after the findings are presented."
For a moment, no one spoke. Then Catherine, ever the diplomat, said, "A reasonable suggestion. One week. We reconvene, review the audit, and revisit the issue."
Richard's gaze burned with rage, but he nodded. "One week. Don't waste it."
The meeting adjourned, tension crackling. The board filed out in clusters—some avoiding Ethan's gaze, others offering thin, nervous smiles. Vanessa lingered at the door, dialing her phone, voice hushed. Ethan caught, "Yes, he's vulnerable. Now's the time."
He strode to Daniel, voice low. "Thanks for the lifeline."
Daniel shrugged. "You'd do the same for me. But watch your back. Richard's not going to wait a week to start pulling strings."
Ethan nodded. "Keep an eye on the audit. If you see anything linking to Vanessa—flag it."
Daniel's eyes flicked to Vanessa, then back. "Already on it."
Ethan left the conference room, tension weighing on his spine. He checked his phone. A single text from Aria: Boardroom games again? Survive and I'll make you pancakes.
He smiled despite himself, thumb hovering over the reply: I'll hold you to that.
He ducked into his office, shutting the door. Silence pressed in—thick, uneasy. He stared out the window, the city's sprawl blurring at the edges. In both timelines, this office had been his fortress. Now it felt like a cage.
He opened his leather-bound journal, flipping to a blank page. Day 11: Richard's making his move. Vanessa's circling. Catherine's hedging bets. Aria's the only ally I trust—and even then, I can't risk pulling her in too deep. Not yet. One week until everything changes. Play it slow. Watch for new threats. Protect Aria at all costs.
He closed the book, breathing steady. Every instinct screamed at him to fight back, to claw for power. But the old ways had failed, last time. This time, he needed allies. He needed Aria.
He called her, voice softening as she answered. "Hey. You free?"
"For you? Always. How bad?"
"Ambush. But I held the line. Might need your advice later."
She laughed, low and genuine. "Then let's have dinner at home. I'll open the Bordeaux we've been saving. We'll strategize like old times."
He pictured her, feet tucked beneath her on the couch, firelight catching the gold in her hair. For a moment, the weight on his shoulders eased.
"Sounds perfect," he said.
After he hung up, Ethan poured a glass of water, staring at his reflection in the window. Tomorrow would bring more games, more traps. But tonight, he had Aria. Tonight, that was enough.
Let Richard scheme, let Vanessa circle. The board could vote, the markets could panic. He'd built his life on surviving ambushes.
And he wasn't about to lose—not now, not with Aria at his side.