The meeting was supposed to be about investment.
At least, that was what Alina assumed when a young CEO requested thirty minutes of her time at White Clover.
His company had grown rapidly over the past eighteen months. Revenue had more than doubled, demand was increasing faster than expected, and several major competitors had begun watching them closely. On paper, everything looked excellent.
But when the CEO entered Alina's office, he didn't look like someone celebrating success. He looked exhausted.
Alina gestured toward the chair across from her desk.
"Please, have a seat."
"Thank you for seeing me."
"Of course."
She expected him to open a presentation deck or begin explaining how much capital he wanted White Clover to provide.
Instead, he remained quiet for several seconds.
Then he said, "I'm actually not here to ask for money."
That caught her attention. Alina leaned back slightly. "All right."
He gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "I know that's probably unusual."
"A little."
"I wanted your advice."
Alina blinked. "My advice?"
"Yes." His expression became more serious. "My company is growing too quickly."
She waited.
He continued. "Which sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud. Everyone keeps congratulating me. Investors tell me this is exactly what founders dream about."
"But?"
"But my employees are exhausted."
That changed the entire conversation.
The CEO rubbed his hands together before continuing.
"We've been expanding into new cities. Demand keeps increasing. Every time we think we've caught up, another opportunity appears."
"How large is your team?"
"One hundred and sixty people now."
"And how large was it a year ago?"
"Ninety."
Alina's eyebrows rose.
"That's significant growth."
"It is."
He sighed.
"But the people who have been with me from the beginning are carrying most of it."
"Why?"
"Because they're the ones I trust."
There it was. Alina understood immediately.
"They know the company best," she said.
"Exactly. They know the clients, the culture, the systems. Whenever something important happens, I give it to them."
"And how many hours are they working?"
He hesitated.
That hesitation told Alina almost everything she needed to know.
"Too many," he admitted.
"How many?"
"Some of them are doing sixty-hour weeks."
Alina's expression changed.
"Regularly?"
He nodded. "For the past few months."
"And weekends?"
"Sometimes."
Alina was silent.
The CEO looked uncomfortable. "I know it's bad."
"Do you?"
The question wasn't cruel.
But it was direct. He exhaled slowly.
"I think I do now."
Alina folded her hands on the desk. "What happens if you slow expansion?"
"My competitors might catch up."
"And what happens if you don't?"
He looked away.
"Some people might leave."
"Some?"
He didn't answer.
Alina watched him carefully. She had seen this pattern before. Not only in corporations, but in ambitious people.
Success created urgency. Urgency created fear. Fear convinced leaders that slowing down meant losing.
And sometimes, without realizing it, they began sacrificing the very people responsible for their success.
The CEO spoke again. "I keep telling myself this is temporary."
"How long have you been saying that?"
He gave another tired laugh. "Probably six months."
Alina nodded. "Then it isn't temporary anymore."
Silence settled between them.
He stared at the floor. "I don't want to lose momentum."
"I understand."
"Do you?"
"Very much."
Alina glanced toward the city outside her windows. White Clover itself was growing quickly. 1992 was expanding too. She understood the temptation to do everything at once. To say yes to every opportunity. To move faster simply because the world was finally paying attention.
But she also knew what kind of company she wanted to build. One that people could survive working for. One they could still love after ten years.
She turned back to him.
"If I were you, I will recruit more employees. Let my current team train the recruits well, and allow the team more time to recharge themselves. It's like promoting them to be in the expert position. You can't force your original team to grind nonstop. It's toxic. Sorry for being very honest with you."
The CEO immediately shook his head.
"No, no. It's fine. You're saying something I need to hear anyway."
Alina nodded.
"Your original team shouldn't remain the emergency solution forever."
He listened carefully.
"They helped you build the company when it was small. Now your company is bigger. Their roles should grow too."
She leaned forward slightly.
"Don't reward your most capable people by giving them twice as much work."
He winced. "I think I've been doing exactly that."
"Most founders do at some point."
He looked surprised.
"You think so?"
"Of course."
Alina smiled faintly.
"You find someone reliable, so you give them more responsibility. They succeed, so you give them even more. Eventually, your reward for competence becomes exhaustion."
The CEO laughed quietly. "That sounds painfully accurate."
"Then change it before they resent you."
His smile disappeared.
Alina continued. "Your senior employees should be building systems now. Training people. Setting standards. Supervising teams. So instead of doing everything themselves…They teach other people how to do it well."
He nodded slowly.
"That would take time."
"Yes."
"And expansion might slow temporarily."
"Probably."
He looked troubled again.
Alina didn't soften the answer.
"That's not necessarily bad."
"But the competition—"
"Will always exist."
He stopped.
"You can't build your company around being terrified that someone else might move faster."
Alina's voice remained calm.
"You build something sustainable."
She gestured toward the notes he'd brought.
"You said your employees are exhausted."
"Yes."
"Then that's data too."
He frowned slightly.
"We always treat revenue, growth, customer acquisition, and market share as data."
She continued. "But burnout is also data. High turnover is data. Sick leave is data. People making mistakes because they're exhausted is data."
The CEO grew quiet.
Alina added, "If your numbers say the company is succeeding but your people are collapsing, then your numbers aren't telling you the whole story."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"I hadn't thought about it like that."
"Most people don't."
He leaned back in his chair. "So I hire aggressively."
"Not aggressively."
Alina corrected him immediately. "Carefully."
That made him smile. "Qualified people."
"Exactly. Expand your company with more qualified employees. Sometimes it's the only solution. Let your team rest."
The CEO nodded. "Let them become experts instead of firefighters."
"Yes."
"And give the new people enough training so we don't destroy the quality of the company."
"Exactly."
He looked down at his notebook and began writing.
For several minutes, Alina watched him make notes.
Recruit. Train. Delegate. Promote original team into supervisory and expert roles.
Reduce overtime. Reevaluate expansion schedule.
Finally, he put down his pen.
"I came here expecting you to tell me how to grow faster."
Alina smiled. "And instead I told you to slow down."
"Basically."
He laughed. Then his expression became thoughtful.
"But I think you're right."
He stood and extended his hand. "Thank you."
Alina shook it. "I hope it helps."
"It already did." He started toward the door before stopping.
"Can I ask one more thing?"
"Of course."
"Do you ever worry about slowing down?"
Alina considered the question. "Yes. Sometimes the thought started appearing."
He seemed surprised.
"But I worry more about building something I can't sustain."
She smiled.
"Fast growth looks impressive. Healthy growth lasts."
The CEO nodded slowly. "I'll remember that."
After he left, Alina remained seated for a moment. She looked at the closed door. Something about the conversation stayed with her.
He hadn't asked White Clover for capital. He hadn't asked for introductions. He hadn't asked for a deal. He had simply wanted to know what she would do.
And for reasons she couldn't quite explain, that realization felt more significant than another successful investment.
People were beginning to trust not only White Clover's money.
They were beginning to trust her judgment.
*****
The post appeared on Darius's phone shortly after lunch.
He had been sitting alone in his office, pretending to review a report from Voss Corporation's European division, when a notification from @WallStreetWhisper appeared at the top of his screen.
He should have ignored it.
Instead, he opened it immediately.
There was a photograph of Alina leaving a restaurant with a young CEO Darius vaguely recognized from recent business news. The two looked relaxed, neither of them behaving in a way that suggested anything remotely romantic.
The caption underneath was even more direct.
The Queen is not considering another beau. The man was heard thanking her for her logical and honest advice. It seemed that we are entering the era that executives approached her to ask for her advice. Excellent! We are so ready for this woman on top era (all puns are intended, thank you very much)!
Darius stared at the post.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
It wasn't the bitter smile he usually wore whenever White Clover won another battle.
It wasn't the irritated expression that appeared whenever photographs of Luc Fournier or Daniel Kim surfaced beside her.
This time, he was simply amused. And strangely proud.
"Damn."
He leaned back in his chair.
"Alina is truly taking over New York."
He thought about what the post actually meant.
The young CEO hadn't been asking White Clover for money.
He hadn't been seeking an investment. He had wanted Alina's opinion. Her judgment. Her advice.
That was different.
Capital could make people listen. Influence could make people seek you out. And apparently, Alina had reached the point where other executives trusted her enough to ask what she would do with their companies.
Darius looked at the photograph again.
She looked comfortable and confident.
Completely at ease sitting across from another CEO and discussing whatever problem had brought him to her.
The realization made something inside him ache.
Above all, he should be the one to understand that she was capable of doing that.
He had lived with her. He had seen how observant she was. How quickly she noticed details other people missed. How calmly she listened before speaking. How rarely she gave opinions without first thinking them through.
And yet…
During their marriage, he'd treated those qualities as if they were insignificant.
He had assumed she knew nothing about his world simply because she didn't announce everything she knew. He had mistaken quietness for ignorance. Patience for weakness. A lack of ambition for a lack of intelligence.
Darius rubbed a hand across his face.
"What an idiot."
There was no anger in the words this time. Only disbelief at himself.
He remembered dinners when Alina had asked him about Voss Corporation.
Questions about acquisitions. Questions about difficult executives. Questions about why he chose one strategy over another.
He had answered her briefly. Sometimes dismissively. Sometimes not at all.
He had believed he was the interesting one. The knowledgeable one. The important one.
Now CEOs were asking her for advice.
The irony was almost elegant.
Darius looked at the post once more.
The Queen.
He chuckled quietly. "Of course."
It suited her.
Not because journalists had decided to call her that.
But because Alina had somehow built a world where people now came to her for direction.
And perhaps the most painful part was realizing that she hadn't suddenly become this woman after leaving him.
She had always been capable of becoming her.
He simply hadn't bothered to look closely enough.
*****
Alina had a Sunday with Camille and Margot.
It was one of those rare afternoons when none of them had somewhere urgent to be. No galas. No business dinners. No meetings disguised as lunches. Just the three of them sitting comfortably in Alina's apartment, with soft music playing in the background and a spread of pastries, fruit, and drinks on the table.
Camille had brought tea from a boutique she recently discovered, while Alina had made a fruity cocktail for Margot and herself.
For nearly an hour, they talked about everything except work.
Naturally, that did not last.
Margot was the first to bring up Luc.
Camille followed immediately.
"Are you planning to marry Luc?" Camille asked casually, a cup of fragrant tea in hand.
Alina was thoughtful for a few seconds, before saying, "Marriage with Luc might be great. He's a great guy. He's patient, he gives me lots of space, and it's never pressure to be with him."
Margot blinked.
In Margot's head she asked, "Did she mean he's boring?"
She did not dare say it aloud.
There was nothing technically wrong with Alina's answer. In fact, it sounded like a glowing endorsement of Luc's character.
And yet…
There was something strangely calm about it.
Too calm.
Camille seemed to notice it too, judging by the quick glance she exchanged with Margot.
Margot decided to change direction.
"What about Daniel? He seems very...attracted to you when I attend events where he's there, I can see it so clearly."
Alina only chuckled.
"Daniel is a…..friend."
"Nothing more?" Camille asked.
Alina shook her head, but Camille was not finished.
"Can you two one day be more than friends?"
Alina looked down at her glass.
She was quiet for too long again before answering, "The chance is very, very slim."
Margot raised an eyebrow.
Very, very slim was not the same thing as impossible.
Interesting.
Before either woman could interrogate her further, Alina stood.
"I'm getting more drinks."
Alina then got up to get more of the fruity cocktail she made for her friends, as Camille and Margot stared at each other knowingly.
Neither needed to speak.
They had known Alina long enough to recognize the difference between affection and passion.
Luc made her peaceful.
Daniel made her comfortable.
But neither man seemed to make something inside her ignite.
Without Alina noticing, the only man she's ever been excited to talk about, although negatively, was Darius.
Whenever his name appeared, Alina changed.
She complained.
She rolled her eyes.
She became sarcastic.
She recounted arguments with unnecessary detail and remembered exact sentences he had said months earlier.
Sometimes she sounded furious.
Sometimes amused.
Sometimes wounded.
But never indifferent.
She seemed more….alive when he talks about him.
Camille quietly looked toward the kitchen, where Alina was pouring more cocktail into their glasses.
Margot followed her gaze.
Neither woman particularly wanted Darius back in Alina's life.
Not after everything that had happened.
But they also knew relationships were rarely as simple as choosing the person who looked best on paper.
Could it be that he was the one she would rebuild with, eventually?
Neither of them knew.
Perhaps even Alina did not know yet.
And for now, they decided not to say anything.
Some truths were better discovered than announced.
*****
The research and development division of White Clover has started the recruitment process.
Only a few days after the executive retreat, the plan that had once existed only on presentation slides had already begun turning into something real.
Human Resources worked closely with Alina, Daniel, Victor, Benjamin, Eleanor, Sofia and Richard to determine exactly what kind of people White Clover needed.
They were not looking for ordinary analysts.
The new division would eventually become one of White Clover's most important sources of information, studying industries long before the company decided whether to invest in them.
They will start researching companies related with artificial intelligence, biotechnology, renewable energy, space technology, financial technology, healthcare, luxury fashion products and hospitality.
Each sector would require people who understood far more than financial statements.
Alina reviewed the first recruitment proposal from her office.
"I don't want us hiring twenty finance graduates and expecting them to suddenly become experts in biotechnology," she said.
Daniel nodded.
"That would defeat the entire purpose."
"We need scientists," Victor added. "Engineers. Industry specialists. People who understand these businesses from the inside."
Benjamin looked through the list.
"And financial analysts who can translate that expertise into investment decisions."
Exactly.
White Clover began advertising several new positions.
They searched for economists, researchers, financial analysts, data specialists, biotechnology experts, healthcare researchers, renewable-energy specialists, technology analysts, and people with experience in the luxury and hospitality industries.
Some positions required advanced degrees.
Others prioritized years of industry experience.
For certain roles, White Clover deliberately opened applications to candidates who had never worked on Wall Street.
Alina liked that.
Someone who had spent fifteen years working in healthcare might understand the weaknesses of a medical company better than an analyst who had merely studied its quarterly reports.
"Qualifications first," Alina reminded the recruitment team. "Recommendations are welcome, but nobody gets hired because someone important knows them."
The rule was written clearly into the recruitment process.
Every candidate would complete several stages.
There would be initial screening, technical assessments, case studies and interviews with specialists.
And finally, there would be interviews with White Clover executives for senior positions.
Daniel looked amused when he saw the planned case-study portion.
"You're making them work before we even hire them."
"We're paying candidates who reach that stage for their time," Alina replied.
Daniel grinned.
"Of course you are."
Alina glanced at him. "What?"
"Nothing. Just very White Clover."
Within days, applications began arriving.
Hundreds at first. Then thousands.
White Clover's growing reputation made the positions unexpectedly competitive.
Some applicants came from major banks. Others came from universities, technology companies, laboratories, consulting firms, hospitals, and international corporations.
Alina occasionally checked the recruitment dashboard, fascinated by the range of people interested in joining them.
Five years earlier, White Clover had not existed.
Now brilliant professionals were voluntarily submitting applications because they wanted to become part of its future.
That realization still felt surreal.
Helena stopped beside Alina's desk one afternoon while she was reviewing the latest recruitment numbers.
"Enjoying yourself?"
Alina smiled. "A little."
Helena glanced at the screen. "This is what growth looks like."
Alina nodded. But she also understood the responsibility behind it. They were not simply adding employees. They were building the people who would help White Clover make decisions for years to come.
The research division would study the future.
And White Clover had every intention of being ready when that future arrived.