BLOOD AND BOARDROOMS

POV: Celestine Michelle The emergency board meeting smells like fear and expensive cologne, a combination that makes my stomach turn as I watch my father's hands shake against the mahogany table. Sweat beads at Richard's temples despite the air conditioning, and I know before he speaks that our world is about to collapse. "Benjamin Thaddeus has acquired thirty percent of our shares," my father says, his voice cracking on the name. "We have ninety days to negotiate a merger or face complete hostile takeover." The room erupts…twelve board members shouting over each with panic and fury. I stay silent, studying the acquisition documents spread before me, recognizing the signature style from business journals I have memorized. Benjamin Thaddeus, the CEO who destroys companies like dominos, who built a tech empire from nothing and crushes anyone who stands in his way. Seven companies in three years, all hostile takeovers, all perfectly legal and absolutely ruthless. "Celestine, are you even listening?" Stephen's voice cuts through my thoughts. My fiancé leans close with his hand possessive on my shoulder. "This is serious." "I know it is serious, Stephen." I shrug off his touch, focusing on the numbers that do not make sense. "Father, how did Thaddeus acquire thirty percent without us noticing? We have controlling interest protocols." . "There were some private sales and small percentages from various shareholders over the past six months." "You sold shares." The realization hits me like cold water. "You have been selling our company piece by piece, and you did not tell me." "I had debts to settle, Celestine. Private matters that do not concern the board." But they concern me because I am the COO, and I have spent ten years learning every aspect of this manufacturing empire, preparing to protect the legacy that is supposed to define our family. The legacy that made my mother's abandonment bearable because at least I had something solid to build my identity around. Solomon, my younger brother, laughs from across the table in a jestful manner and slightly drunk despite the early hour. "Let me guess, Father. You gambled our inheritance on some scheme, and now the big bad wolf is at our door." "Solomon, not now." My father warned, but Solomon is past caring about warnings. "When, then? When is a good time to discuss how you are destroying everything your grandfather built? How are you proving mother was right to leave?" The mention of our mother silences the room. No one speaks about Michelle, the woman who disappeared when I was five, the ghost that haunts every family gathering with her conspicuous absence. "Gentlemen, please." Vincent, my father's business partner, stands with the smooth authority of someone who has been waiting for this moment. "We need strategy, not drama and I propose we hire external negotiators to handle Benjamin Thaddeus while we explore other investment options." "No." The word leaves my mouth before I fully think it through, but once spoken, I commit to it. "I will handle the negotiations directly." Stephen's grip tightens on my shoulder, painful . "Absolutely not. Celestine, you cannot go head to head with Benjamin Thaddeus… He will destroy you." "Then he destroys me." I stand, smoothing my skirt, channeling the composure my mother never taught me because she was not there to teach me anything. "But I will not hide behind hired lawyers while someone dismantles my family's company. Father, I assume I have your approval?" Richard looks at me with something that might be pride or might be regret, I can never tell the difference anymore. "If you think you can handle it, sweetheart but Benjamin Thaddeus is not like our usual competitors. He does not negotiate, he conquers." "Then I will learn to be unconquerable." I gather the acquisition documents, my hands steady even though my heart races. "Set up the first meeting for tomorrow. I want to see exactly who we are dealing with." As the board disperses in anxious clusters, Stephen follows me into the hallway, his lawyer face firmly in place. "This is a mistake, Celestine. Let me handle the legal aspects, you focus on operations." "You focus on operations, Stephen. This is my family's legacy." "It will be our legacy once we are married." He reaches for my hand, the engagement ring he chose, too big and too showy, catching the fluorescent light. "I am trying to protect you." "I do not need protection; rather, I need space to do my job." I pull away, hating how his concern feels more like control lately, like he is managing me the way he manages his legal cases. "I will call you later." I do not wait for his response before heading to my office where I can research Benjamin Thaddeus without an audience. Three hours later, surrounded by printed articles and financial reports, I have assembled a profile of a man with no past. Before age eighteen, Benjamin Thaddeus does not exist in any public record. No family, no childhood, no origin story except the one he built himself: foster kid turned tech genius turned corporate raider. He is thirty-four, never married, no known relationships, and lives in a penthouse that costs more than most people earn in a lifetime. He funds a private charity for homeless children but refuses all interviews about it. He is ruthless in business but has never been sued for illegal practices, just ethical ones. And according to every photograph I can find, he is devastatingly handsome in ways that business magazines fail to capture. I am still reading when Beatrice, our housekeeper who raised me when my mother could not be bothered to stay, brings me tea and concerns. "You should eat something, child. You have been locked in here for hours." "I am fine, Beatrice." But I accept the tea, grateful for her steady presence. "Did you ever meet anyone named Thaddeus? Before I was born, maybe?" Her face does something strange, a flicker of recognition quickly suppressed. "Why would you ask that?" "Just curious about our new enemy." I watch her carefully. "The name seems familiar somehow." "You are imagining things." Beatrice never lies. "Drink your tea before it gets cold." She leaves before I can press further, and I am left with the uncomfortable feeling that everyone in my life is keeping secrets, that the truth about Benjamin Thaddeus is more personal than corporate warfare. That night, I dreamt of my mother for the first time in years. Michelle stands in a doorway I cannot reach, holding a baby I do not recognize, and when she speaks, her voice is not hers but a stranger's: "You have your father's eyes." I wake with tears on my face and the terrible certainty that tomorrow's meeting with Benjamin Thaddeus will change everything, that I am walking into a trap I cannot see but somehow feel waiting for spring.