The Alpha's Crimson Vow

5

It blankets the room in the wake of my words. I can feel their eyes on me, assessing, calculating. I don’t flinch. I don’t blink. I let the silence stretch long enough to make my point.

Frank blinks rapidly, his composure slipping like a mask on the verge of falling. For a fleeting moment, I savor it, but I keep my expression carved from stone.

He clears his throat, his voice carrying that carefully measured tone of false confidence. “Miss CEO,” he begins, “I think that from everything I’ve just said, there’s a very compelling argument that we simply cannot properly execute an expansion of the magnitude you’re proposing.”

There it is again. The mockery embedded in those two words: Miss CEO. He says it like a slur wrapped in civility, as though the title doesn’t belong to me, as though my position is still up for debate. But now is not the time to dwell on his petty disrespect.

“Everything you’ve just said,” I reply, my voice steady and unyielding, “is the same as you said in the last meeting, Frank. So I’ll reiterate the things I’ve said previously. We certainly have the means, especially financially, to properly execute my expansion plan.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “But what about the infrastructure? We don’t have any infrastructure in Asia.”

“We will soon,” I counter smoothly. “I already highlighted the specific areas we are looking to make land purchases in. I also brought the board up to speed with initial talks to finalize those purchases.”

“Katherine,” he says, his tone more strained now, “the purchases you suggested are expensive.”

He always gets frustrated when he can’t get his way.

“Well…” I tilt my head slightly, a faint hint of amusement creeping into my tone. “Mr. CFO, I’m surprised you would think it’s expensive. Considering that over the last quarter we’ve generated record revenues, thanks to my expansion strategy within the country, by the way. I’m sure you’re aware we can easily afford this new plan.”

His jaw tightens visibly, and I catch the throb of a vein in his neck. The other board members are watching, their eyes darting between us like spectators at a tennis match.

“You didn’t let me finish. The increase in revenue from the previous project was wonderful because it was going to bring us all great profit. Expanding into Asia is a big expense and from my calculations, most of our current profit would become capital for that. What profit would be left for us in that case?”

My eyebrow arches before I can stop it. The board members around us all turn to me now.

He continues, more confident now that he has gotten a reaction out of everyone,. “Your expansion in the country has yielded some results, yes. And I think it would be more beneficial for morale if we increased the dividends of everyone on this board first, rather than embarking on another expansion that is a risk, and could lead to losses.”

He’s trying to sway the board with this hilarious attempt.

“So…” I lean forward slightly, fixing him with a look that’s all steel. “From what I gather, Frank, you haven’t been able to make any credible arguments against our capabilities for expansion… other than suggesting we divert funds to boardmember dividends?”

Frank bristles. “We’re in this to make money!” he starts.

I wave my hand, stopping whatever he means to say after that. “If your response to a little success is to immediately squander the profits, you won’t go very far.”

His face goes red. I turn to the board.

“I don’t want a slice. I want the whole cake. Rather than sharing a slice amongst ourselves, wouldn’t everyone be more satisfied if we had the whole cake to share?” I ask.

The boardmembers have to agree with me. Even they see it at this point. Despite the doubts they have in me, the one I see so clearly in their eyes, they know that I’m right.

“Even though it might take a little longer, wait for the whole cake,” I command.

Silence. The kind that stretches and gnaws at the edges of the room. Frank’s eyes dart to the others, searching for backup, but none of them speak. My authority is absolute, and he knows it.

“The expansion will go ahead as planned.” I declare with an air of finality.

Frank stands there looking like he’d rather melt into the floor, his face flushed.

I push back my chair with deliberate slowness.

“Well,” I begin, keeping my tone pointed, “if that will be all—” Before I can finish, an old, raspy voice interrupts. “Actually, there is one more thing to address.”

I stop mid-sentence, my eyes narrowing as I turn toward the source of the interruption. Lawrence. My uncle. The oldest person in this room. He sits to my left, his hunched frame radiating an air of gravitas that demands attention, even as his frail hands rest lightly on the table.

There’s something about him—the way he moves, slow and deliberate, every motion precise. If I didn’t know him better, I might have mistaken him for something otherworldly, a wolf shifter, perhaps. Not long ago, the very notion would have seemed absurd. But in the past few months, I’ve learned that this world is far more than it appears. Supernatural beings exist.

But Lawrence is human. It’s his title that makes him formidable. He is the head of the family elders.The spokesperson for a group of traditionalists who view Pinnacle Group as less of a corporation and more of a family dynasty. And, of course, he has something to say.

I sink back into my chair, schooling my features into neutrality. I already know what’s coming. Lawrence doesn’t speak unless it’s to make a point—usually one designed to undermine me.

“I have to say, Katherine,” he begins, his words slow, “myself, as well as the other elders, are quite disappointed with how things went with Mr. Chris Winters.”

The name sends a faint ripple of annoyance through me, but I push it aside, leaning back in my chair. I let out a slow, measured sigh. “That doesn’t sound like a pressing matter that warrants discussion in this meeting, Uncle Lawrence,” I say, my tone icy.

“Oh, but it is,” he replies, his voice carrying an eerie calmness. “You see, we’ve made it abundantly clear how your status as a single woman is… problematic, given the position you now hold.”

My fingers curl against the armrests of my chair, but I don’t flinch. “And I believe I’ve made it abundantly clear,” I say sharply, “that my private affairs have no bearing on my ability to perform as CEO.”

His eyes, sharp and unyielding despite their age, lock onto mine. There’s something unnerving about the way he looks at me—not fear-inducing, but unsettling in the way only someone used to unquestioned authority can be. He’s testing me, waiting for me to fold under the pressure. But I don’t.

The other board members stir in their seats, their discomfort palpable. I catch a few of their glances—wide-eyed, hesitant—as if they’re silently begging me to relent. But I don’t care. I won’t be cowed by Lawrence.