Chapter 4 – Pressure
700 Words
6:00 a.m.
The phone rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Nia groaned softly, her arm dragging across the bed until her fingers finally found the device. She didn’t even open her eyes.
“…What?” her voice came out low, edged with irritation.
“Good morning, Ms. Carter—”
“Why are you calling me at six in the morning?” she cut in, sitting up slightly, eyes still half-closed. “This better be important.”
There was a nervous pause on the other end.
“Yes, ma’am. I apologize, but there’s a meeting scheduled for this morning. The board insisted on your presence.”
Nia let out a slow exhale, rubbing her temple.
“Do you have any idea how much I value my sleep?”
“I—I understand, ma’am. I’m really sorry, Ms. Carter, but they said—”
“Of course they did.”
Silence.
Then—
“…Fine,” she muttered. “I’ll be there.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
The call ended.
For a moment, she just sat there.
Still.
Quiet.
Then she fell back against the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Sleep wasn’t coming back.
It rarely did.
By the time she arrived, the entire room was already waiting.
Glass walls. Polished table. Men and women in expensive suits pretending they weren’t intimidated.
Nia walked in like she owned the air they were breathing.
Because she did.
A tailored black suit fit her perfectly, sharp and effortless. Her expression was calm, unreadable—the same mask she wore everywhere.
“Ms. Carter,” one of the board members greeted, standing quickly.
She didn’t respond.
Just nodded once and took her seat at the head of the table.
“Let’s get this over with.”
The presentation began.
Numbers. Projections. Opportunities.
A partnership proposal.
Nia listened—barely.
Her fingers tapped lightly against the table, her gaze distant, uninterested.
“…and with this collaboration, both companies stand to significantly increase—”
“That’s enough.”
The room went still.
Nia leaned back slightly in her chair, her eyes finally focusing—cold, sharp.
“They’re garbage.”
The words landed flat.
Heavy.
No hesitation. No sugarcoating.
The representatives across the table stiffened instantly.
“I’m sorry?” one of them managed.
“You heard me,” Nia said calmly. “Your company is mediocre at best. Everything you’ve presented is replaceable. Predictable. Weak.”
Silence swallowed the room.
One of her board members leaned forward quickly. “Ms. Carter, with all due respect, this partnership would be extremely beneficial. Their reach in—”
“Did I ask?” she cut in, her tone still calm—but now dangerous.
The man froze.
Nia’s gaze swept across the table slowly.
“If we needed them,” she continued, “they wouldn’t be here asking. They’d be irrelevant.”
“Ma’am,” another board member tried carefully, “turning this down could cost us—”
“Then maybe you’re all more replaceable than I thought.”
That did it.
No one spoke after that.
No one dared.
Nia stood up smoothly, adjusting her sleeve.
“Meeting’s over.”
The representatives didn’t argue.
They couldn’t.
Not with the way the room had shifted.
Not with the way she carried herself—like walking away was already the final decision.
As she stepped out of the room, the doors closing behind her, the silence followed.
But not for long.
Her thoughts came rushing back almost instantly.
Louder than before.
Heavier.
Her birth parents.
Who were they?
Why did they leave you?
Do you even belong here?
Her jaw tightened.
She kept walking.
Faster this time.
Like she could outpace it.
By the time she reached her office, her hand was already at her temple again.
Pressure.
Constant.
Unrelenting.
She stepped inside and shut the door behind her, the sound echoing faintly.
For a moment, she just stood there.
Breathing.
Trying to steady something she couldn’t name.
Her eyes drifted, almost unconsciously…
To a small drawer.
Closed.
Untouched.
Then she looked away.
Quickly.
Like it didn’t matter.
Like none of it did.
Outside, her company thrived.
Inside—
The cracks were getting louder.
- Writer
