Lucian
The conference room at Cross Media Entertainment had never felt smaller. Twelve board members sat around the polished mahogany table, their faces set with the grim determination of executioners. At the head of the table, Harrison Webb shuffled through papers like a judge preparing to read a verdict.
"Before we begin the vote," Webb said, his voice carrying the weight of five years of professional relationship, "I want to give you one last chance to reconsider, Lucian. End the relationship. Issue a public statement. We can spin this as a temporary lapse in judgment."
I looked around the table at people I'd once considered allies. Some avoided my eyes. Others stared back with cold calculation. A few, like Morrison, actually looked disappointed that I'd forced their hand.
"No," I s
