ChapterEleven
1271 Words
Mila’s POV
The next morning, the emergency audit started, and since thattime, my life became a nightmare of figures, records, and panic. Although I had been suspended officially, Ruben would not allow me to fade away. He explained that I could not move back, it would seem like guilt. So I did my best at the secure apartment, assisting him in creating documents and schedules to protect the company.
I barely slept. Whenever I closed my eyes, I had headlines, flash cameras, and the faces of members of boards who wanted me out of the way. I would also get up after two or three hours, and my heart was so fast that I was already thinking of lists of reports that had to be checked.
On the third-day, my hands were shaking from fatigue.
Ruben called in the morning before eight. "Did you sleep?" he would ask.
“Yes, a little,” I would say, when really it was not the case.
One morning, he said to me, “You sound tired.”
"I am fine," I insisted. “Send me the finance batch 2018 re-sent. The timestamps do not match."
The line was briefly paused. "Mila, you are not a machine."
"I know," I replied softly. “But when we overlook one of them, they will tell you it was intentional.”
The audit team was already undertaking the task of digging into internal communications. They were requesting access logs, archived messages and confidential project files. Part of those files had crossed my hands several months before. I had the feeling that every click of my mouse was under examination, even though I was not doing anything wrong.
Luca arrived that afternoon with printed papers.
“You look dreadful,” he said tenderly when I opened the door.
“Thanks,” I said with a feeble smile.
"I mean it," he added. "You need rest."
“I want evidence,” I said, moving aside so that he could enter. "If I break now, they win."
On the table, he put the papers. "The audit team is aggressive. They are seeking inconsistencies.”
"Are they looking at me?" I asked.
He did not answer right away.
"Luca," I pressed.
"Yes," he said quietly. "Your login history. Your access level. Everything."
My chest tightened. "Good. Let them."
He studied my face. "You trust Ruben a lot."
“I do," I said, and was not doubtful.
“And should the audit discover something greater?” he asked carefully.
I froze. "What do you mean?"
“What about someone, I mean, he thought, what about something more than scandal?”
I swallowed. "Then we deal with it. But I will not run."
He nodded, “but I knew that he was worried.”
As he walked away, I got back to my working station where I resumed work. Time slipped away, and I was unaware. The sun had disappeared through the window. The apartment grew darker.
At some time, I found myself not having eaten anything the whole day.
But I kept going.
since otherwise, I should be overhauled by fear.
One night, as we were sitting there, the door was knocked at.
I expected security or Luca.
Instead, Ruben stood there.
He had his tie undone, his sleeves rolled up, and he was as tired as I was.
“You must be asleep, you ought to be sleeping,” he thought as he walked in.
"So should you," I replied.
He looked at the open laptop and the piles of papers. "You have been at this all day."
"Yes."
He went into the kitchen and filled himself with water, and then he turned back to me. "The board is divided. It is believed that the audit will ease investors. Hopefully, others wish it would make me resign.
My heart skipped. "Step down?"
That is a possibility, he acknowledged placidly.
"No," I said quickly. "They cannot do that."
He gave a small, tired smile. "They can try."
A silence followed between us for a moment. Then he drew up a chair and sat down beside me.
He asked: Show me what you are working on.
I hesitated. "You do not have to stay."
"I know," he replied. "I want to."
Therefore I presented him with the out-of-sequence time stamps, the access logs, and the folders accessed offsite. He was bending nearer and looking at the screen.
"You found this?" he asked.
"Yes."
He nodded slowly. "Good."
Hours had we worked together. We had talked about the files sometimes. Sometimes we sat in silence. But the silence was not heavy. It felt steady.
I even touched my eyes at one time. "Why are you still here?" I asked quietly.
He looked at me. "Because you are not alone in doing this.”
My heart sank at his message.
“I heard them saying that I had destroyed your life,” I said.
"They are wrong," he said firmly. "You changed it. There is a difference."
I felt warmth rise to my face. "Ruben..."
He touched me, pushing back a hair that rested on my cheek. The touch was low, cautious, yet it gave me an impulse of feeling.
You need not carry this, you see, he said to himself.
“I would rather leave it and see you fight by yourself,” I said.
The world outside was lost for a moment. No audit. No board. No headlines. The two of us are in a silent room with papers and no light.
Then his phone rang.
He looked at the screen, and the alliacity of his face disappeared.
"It's Victoria," he said.
My stomach dropped.
He responded verbally without removing his gaze out of the window. "What do you want?"
Victoria had a smooth and controlled voice. "Ruben, we need to talk."
“This is not a good time.”
“It is exactly the right time,” she replied. “The board is reconsidering its position.”
My pulse quickened.
“About what?” Ruben asked coldly.
“About her,” Victoria said.
I felt the word like a slap.
“She is a liability,” Victoria continued. “Investors are nervous. The media is relentless. If you want to stabilise Titan Corp, you need to remove the problem.”
“I am not firing her,” Ruben said immediately.
There was a soft laugh on the other end. “Then prepare for the consequences.”
“What kind of consequences?” he asked.
“The kind that makes boards nervous,” she replied calmly. “The kind that shifts votes.”
Ruben’s jaw tightened. “You are overplaying your hand.”
“No,” she said. “I am protecting the company.”
“You are protecting yourself,” he shot back.
There was a brief silence.
Then Victoria’s voice turned cold. “The board will meet tomorrow morning again. This time, the motion will be clear. Mila Daan must be terminated. Publicly.”
My breath caught in my throat.
“If you refuse,” she added, “they will question your leadership.”
The call ended.
The room felt suddenly smaller.
I stared at Ruben. “She is going to push the board.”
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“And if they force you?” I asked.
His eyes met mine, steady and intense.
“They will not force me,” he said.
But for the first time, I saw doubt flicker there.
Outside, the city lights blinked against the dark sky. Inside, fear settled heavily in my chest.
Tomorrow, the board would decide.
And I might lose everything.
- Writer
