RISK ASSESSMENT
1616 Words
REMY'S POV
I had seen her leave.
I wasn't stupid. I had my gaze on her the whole time. Even when she thought I wasn't looking.
But I didn't want to go after her. She needed her space. It's not like the brunch was that important.
The look in her eyes flooded my head and I turned to Daniel.
“Daniel?” I called out, my voice bland.
He looked up at me, straightening. “Yes sir?”
“Come with me.”
I didn't wait for him to respond before I started walking away to a secluded corner. He followed after me quietly, stopping when we were out of earshot. “Yes sir?”
I turned to him finally, the look in my eyes dark. “What was that move you just pulled?”
Confusion filled his expression and he shrugged. “What move?”
The urge to sucker punch him roared up my veins. Hold it in, Remy. He was your employee.
Suddenly, a flash of realization crossed his face and he chuckled. “Oh, the assistant. That was fun.” He looked like he was reminiscing about the moment.
I stepped closer, breaking him out of his reverie as he took a step away, fear flashing briefly across his face. “Fun?” I hissed. “Have we forgotten basic ethics when it comes to talking to employees? Or are you forgetting how easy it is to fire you for workplace misconduct.”
He went tense, his jaw tightening. “It was just a harmless joke, sir. I really don't get why this is such a big deal and why I'm being interrogated like this because of her.”
Annoyance crept into my tone and I clenched my fists. “Are you serious?”
He looked away, refusing to meet my gaze. “Even if she is capable, I'd like to remind you that if the board thinks there is any form of connection between the two of you and you're being this protective about your assistant, they'll terminate her job offer.”
That made me pause. He wasn't threatening meㅡ far from it. He was simply pointing out a fact that I wanted to ignore so badly. They would fire her without a second thought.
“Whatever you want to think, Daniel. I don't need to have a connection to my employee to call out bullshit from you guys. Watch your mouth around the employees. The next time won't be this pretty.”
He nodded immediately, bowing slightly. “Understood, Sir.”
He scrambled away just as one of the security guards hurried to me. “Sir?”
Irritation bubbled up in me. “What?”
“The CEO of Summit Analytics is here.”
That got my attention. “They're here? I thought they wouldn't be able to make it.”
“Apparently, they found a way and they're at the hotel already, he asked if the meeting could be held by 8pm.”
I paused, thinking about it. “Tell him I said yes.”
As the man hurried back out, I walked over to Lila with a slight frown. “Tell everyone to go back to their rooms in five minutes and get ready. We'll be having the meeting with Summit Analytics tonight.”
The smile on her face morphed into a frown. “Tonight? Are they here?”
“Yes, we can't afford mistakes.” I was already walking out, making my way back to the hotel.
Needed to check up on Naila and inform her too.
The ride back down to my floor was quiet and I kept thinking about what Daniel said. He was right. And if I cared about Naila, I would make sure not to make her lose her job. No matter how much it killed me.
Finally the elevator dinged and I stepped out, shoes clicking against the marble floor as I turned to the suite, turning the knob to step into the space.
It was empty.
I paused, looking around with a frown on my face. She wasn't here? Where else could she have gone?
Panic flared up in me for a second as I pulled out my phone, ready to dial her number. That's when I heard itㅡ someone retching from the bathroom.
Her bathroom.
My brows furrowed and I made my way there, noticing the slightly ajar door and peeking inside.
Oh.
She was hunched over the toilet bowl, throwing up and coughing.
“Holy s**t, are you okay? I'll call a doctor.” I immediately wanted to rush to the telephone to phone the desk but she tensed, turning to me.
“Oh. No, I just need some time. The food at the brunch must have had something I'm allergic to.”
She was brushing it off. Like it was nothing.
My fists clenched by my side and I resisted the urge to approach her. “We have a meeting with Summit Analytics by 8pm, if you're not okay by thenㅡ”
“I'm fine. Please…leave. I need to clean up.”
I bit back the words that threatened to spill out my lips. Wanted to tell her that she should stop doing this to herself because she wanted to push me away. I was her boss, this was about her f*****g health, not our past.
Could she stop relegating everything to that? Reducing it to our past?
But instead, I stepped away, closing the door to give her privacy.
I wanted to tell her to stay in for the meeting but Daniel's words rang in my headㅡ The board would start to suspect and they would fire her.
Meaning I had to mind my business if I wanted to protect her.
*************
By the time the meeting rolled around, I was watching her closely.
She seemed fine now. Bright smile, active as she took notes of what the representative from Summit Analytics was saying, pointing to the images on the large screen while the rest of us sat around the conference table. Quiet. Watchful.
But I couldn't help but notice one thing. The CEO of Summit Analytics was staring at Naila from where she sat next to me. The fucker wasn't even trying to hide it. She hadn't looked up at him once and my gaze hadn't left him once.
Did they know each other?
I didn’t trust him.
I hadn’t trusted him from the moment he proposed this collaboration, framing it as a “natural evolution” between our companies. Summit Analytics didn’t need us. And we didn’t need them. Which begged the question—why would they need a merger with us?
But suspicion without proof was useless. And the offer was hard to pass up on.
That was the only reason I was here.
His representative rounded up her presentation and there was light applause as she made her way back to her seat.
“Thank you very much. Let’s begin,” I said, standing.
The room quieted immediately. I moved toward the screen, the first slide lighting up behind me. “What we’re proposing tonight is not just a merger of assets, but a convergence of foresight and defense.”
I let my gaze sweep the room—Summit’s board members, my own executives. “The project will be titled Sterling Sentinel.”
Everyone nodded silently. I was in most control of the merger. We had the most legal say in it. That was the only condition.
“Sterling Sentinel is a proactive AI-driven security ecosystem,” I continued. “Not reactive. Not responsive. Predictive.”
The next slide shifted—graphs, timelines, threat simulations. “My company provides the Sterling security infrastructure. Physical systems. Digital firewalls. Internal monitoring frameworks.” I paused, then added, “Summit Analytics contributes Oracle AI—the predictive engine that analyzes patterns across financial instability, insider behavior, cybersecurity breaches, and operational anomalies.” I tapped the remote once more.
“Sterling Sentinel doesn’t wait for failure. It forecasts it.” I announced.
The room leaned in.
“Oracle AI continuously analyzes internal data streams, employee access behavior, unusual financial movement, communication irregularities, system strain and flags probability thresholds before collapse occurs. Whether that collapse is a data breach, internal sabotage, or a financial implosion.” I turned slightly, eyes flicking to Elias. “In simple terms, it tells companies what will go wrong before it does.”
Elias smiled wider, as if pleased. At least we were going right.
One of Summit’s board members, a woman with sharp eyes and a sharper posture, lifted her hand. “And if it doesn’t work as expected?”
I paused, waiting for her to explain.
“If Oracle AI miscalculates,” she continued calmly, “or if Sterling Sentinel fails to prevent a major incident, what are the consequences? Financially. Legally.”
A fair question.
I didn’t hesitate. “My financial team has already compiled a full risk-impact analysis.” I turned slightly. “It breaks down projected losses, liability exposure, and contingency safeguards.” Then, automatically, “My assistant will present it.”
Every head, including mine, turned to Naila. She immediately straightened and nodded. “Of course, one moment.”
She clicked on her laptop, eyes furrowing for a second as she repeatedly clicked on something.
A pause.
Then panic flashed across her expression as she tapped a few buttons, the click in the space sounding like a death knell.
My stomach dropped as I stared at her tense figure.
Impossible. She had made the report, hadn't she?
But it was clear as day.
She didn't need to tell me.
She couldn't find it anymore.
- Writer
