Hostile Hearts

Chapter Three

Elena arrived at Voss Tower the next morning at 7:15, determined not to give Damien Voss any excuse to criticize her.

Her revised report—stripped of what he’d called “emotional appeals”—sat heavy in her portfolio. She had worked until 2 AM, backing every argument with pure data, charts, and third-party benchmarks. It still felt like betrayal to present it.

The executive floor was already humming with activity. Through the glass wall of her office, she watched Damien in his domain, on a video call, gesturing sharply. He looked as implacable as ever in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than her car.

At 8:00 sharp, his assistant appeared. “Mr. Voss wants you in the strategy room. Now.”

Elena grabbed her materials and followed. The strategy room held six of Damien’s top executives plus two from her old team who now looked distinctly uncomfortable. Damien stood at the head of the table.

“Ms. Reyes. Good of you to join us. We’re discussing integration timelines. Present your revised recommendations.”

No pleasantries. No acknowledgment of the late night she’d clearly endured. Elena distributed copies of the report, keeping her face neutral.

She launched into the key points: projected revenue from retaining core R&D talent, cost savings from phased rather than immediate cuts, and data showing talent flight risks. Her voice stayed steady, professional. But inside, resentment simmered. Every word felt like conceding ground.

Damien interrupted before she reached page five.

“These projections assume ideal conditions,” he said coldly. “Real-world execution under new leadership is different. Your *people* are resistant. Resistance slows progress.”

“My *people*,” Elena replied, emphasizing the word, “are highly skilled professionals who built technology you clearly want. Treating them like disposable parts guarantees that resistance.”

One of Damien’s executives—a slick man named Harrington—chuckled. “Sentiment again. Voss Tech doesn’t do hand-holding.”

Elena’s gaze snapped to him. “It’s not sentiment. It’s risk assessment. Lose key engineers and your integration timeline doubles. I have the turnover models right here.”

Damien held up a hand, silencing the room. His eyes locked on hers. “We’re not here to debate philosophy, Ms. Reyes. We’re here to execute. Your revisions are noted. However, I’ve decided to accelerate select cuts. The legacy product support team goes at the end of this week.”

Elena’s blood ran cold. That team included Marcus and three others who had been with Reyes since the beginning. “That’s a mistake. They hold critical institutional knowledge for the transition—”

“Enough.” Damien’s voice cut like a blade. “Your role is advisor, not decision-maker. You’ve been given more latitude than most in your position. Do not test my patience further.”

The room fell deathly silent. Elena felt the weight of every stare. Her former colleagues looked down at the table, unwilling to meet her eyes. She was on her own.

She leaned forward, voice low but fierce. “You demanded data. I delivered it. Ignoring it isn’t decisive leadership—it’s willful blindness. Or is this personal? Punishing me for daring to challenge you?”

Damien’s expression darkened. “Personal? Don’t flatter yourself. This is business. Your father ran a charity disguised as a company. I run an empire. The difference is why I’m standing here and he isn’t.”

The words landed like a physical blow. Elena’s hands curled into fists beneath the table. “Leave my father out of this.”

“Or what?” Damien challenged, voice dangerously quiet. “You’ll storm out? Resign in protest? Go ahead. The moment you do, every protection I’ve extended to your remaining team vanishes. Choose.”

Elena stared at him across the table, fury burning in her chest. She wanted to walk out. She wanted to slap the arrogance off his face. But walking out meant abandoning the people counting on her.

“I’ll stay,” she said through gritted teeth. “But I will keep fighting every destructive decision you make.”

Damien’s smile was thin and humorless. “Fight all you want, Ms. Reyes. It changes nothing. The support team cuts stand. Effective Friday. You may inform them yourself—consider it part of your advisory duties.”

The meeting continued as if her objections had never been raised. Elena sat through the rest in rigid silence, taking notes she barely registered. When it finally ended, she remained seated as the others filed out.

Damien lingered, closing his laptop. “You’re angry.”

“Observant,” she snapped.

“Anger is unproductive. Channel it into useful work. I expect a full transition plan for the affected team by tomorrow. Detailed handover documents. No delays.”

Elena stood, gathering her things. “You’re not just cutting jobs. You’re erasing years of work and loyalty. Does that mean anything to you?”

He met her gaze without flinching. “It means the company becomes stronger. Weaker elements are removed. That’s how empires are built.”

“And people like you,” she said quietly, “are why so many hate them.”

She walked out before he could respond, chest tight with rage and helplessness.

Back in her office, Elena stared at the list of names on her screen. Marcus. Priya. The others. How was she supposed to tell them?

Her phone buzzed with a text from her sister

How’s the new job?

She couldn’t bring herself to reply.

Through the glass wall, she saw Damien back at his desk, already on another call, calm and in complete control. The king of his tower, unmoved by the destruction he ordered.

Elena turned away and began drafting the handover documents. She would do the job. She would be flawless.

But every line she wrote added fuel to the fire of her determination.

Damien Voss thought he could break her and her company.

He had no idea how hard she was willing to fight back.