Chapter Two
1017 Words
No Longer In Control
The boardroom didn’t feel like hers anymore.
Elsie noticed it the moment she stepped inside.
It wasn’t anything obvious—not the furniture, not the people, not even the documents already laid out on the table like they had been waiting for her arrival. It was something quieter than that.
The way no one stood up when she entered.
The way conversations only paused, not stopped.
The way her presence felt… optional.
That was new.
That was wrong.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the strap of her bag as she walked forward anyway, forcing her steps to stay steady. Sofia followed behind her, but Elsie could feel her hesitation too now. Everyone in the room looked like they had already decided how this meeting would end.
And she wasn’t included in that decision.
At the far end of the table, he was already there.
Damian Cross.
Not sitting like a guest.
Not waiting like an outsider.
He looked like someone who had already rewritten the room and was now just observing how long it would take everyone else to realize it.
Elsie stopped at her seat.
Or what used to be her seat.
It didn’t feel like that anymore either.
She pulled it out slowly and sat down anyway, refusing to show hesitation. Chairs didn’t decide ownership. People did.
At least, that was what she told herself.
Damian’s gaze lifted to her the moment she sat.
Not intrusive.
Not emotional.
Just aware.
Like he had been tracking her the entire time without needing to move his eyes.
A man near the center of the table cleared his throat. “Shall we begin?”
No one waited for Elsie to answer.
That was the first c***k.
Damian spoke first.
Calmly.
Effortlessly.
“We need to address immediate restructuring,” he said. “Walker Hotels is currently operating at a 42% loss margin across its flagship properties.”
Elsie blinked once.
That wasn’t information she had been given.
She leaned forward slightly. “We?”
The room shifted.
Damian didn’t look at her immediately. “Yes.”
A pause.
“I’ve already acquired controlling interest.”
The words landed again.
Not softer this time.
Heavier.
Elsie let out a slow breath through her nose. “You bought it. Not inherited it. Not negotiated with me. You bought it.”
“That is correct.”
Something in her chest tightened.
“And you thought that meant you get to run the meeting before I even sit down?”
Now his eyes met hers fully.
And held.
“I didn’t think it,” he said. “I executed it.”
Silence spread across the table like something alive.
Elsie smiled faintly.
It wasn’t warm.
It wasn’t even polite.
It was controlled anger wrapped in calm.
“Then let me execute something too,” she said.
The room tensed.
Damian didn’t react outwardly.
But something subtle changed in his expression.
Interest.
Elsie noticed it.
And hated that she did.
“I’m still the CEO on record,” she continued. “Until legally removed, I don’t take instructions from investors who walked in three days ago like they own grief itself.”
A few people shifted uncomfortably.
Damian finally leaned back slightly.
“You misunderstand,” he said.
“I don’t think I do.”
“You do.”
The simplicity of it made her irritation spike.
“Then explain it to me,” Elsie said.
A pause.
Damian’s gaze didn’t leave hers.
“I’m not here to fight you,” he said.
That almost made her laugh.
Almost.
But something in his tone stopped her.
Because it didn’t sound rehearsed.
It sounded… factual.
Like it wasn’t meant to reassure her.
Just inform her.
“I don’t believe you,” Elsie said quietly.
“You don’t have to.”
That was worse.
Because it meant her belief wasn’t part of his calculation at all.
The meeting continued after that, but Elsie stopped hearing most of it.
Numbers. Projections. Assets. Risk assessments.
All of it blurred together.
Except him.
Damian Cross never raised his voice.
Never overexplained.
Never defended himself.
He simply spoke like the outcome was already decided and everyone else was just catching up.
And worst of all…
It worked.
People listened to him.
More than they listened to her.
That realization sat in Elsie’s stomach like something sharp.
When the meeting finally ended, chairs scraped softly against the floor.
People began standing.
Gathering papers.
Leaving in small groups that avoided looking directly at her.
Damian stood too.
But he didn’t leave immediately.
Instead, he walked around the table slowly until he was closer to her side.
Not close enough to be personal.
But close enough that she felt his presence more sharply now.
“You’re losing control of the narrative,” he said quietly.
Elsie didn’t look up at him. “I’m not in a narrative.”
A faint pause.
“You are now,” he replied.
That made her finally look at him.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked.
It wasn’t anger this time.
It was something closer to exhaustion.
A question that had been building without her permission.
Damian didn’t answer immediately.
When he did, it wasn’t what she expected.
“Because someone already did it to my father,” he said.
The room felt colder after that.
Elsie frowned slightly. “What does that mean?”
But he was already turning away.
Not avoiding her.
Just finished.
And that was the part that unsettled her most.
Because he didn’t look like a man creating chaos.
He looked like a man correcting one.
Before he left the room, he stopped at the door.
Without turning back, he added:
“You should prepare yourself.”
Elsie’s fingers tightened slightly.
“For what?” she asked.
A pause.
Then his voice, quieter than before:
“For the parts of your father’s life you were never meant to see.”
And then he was gone.
Leaving Elsie in a room that suddenly felt smaller.
And a truth she couldn’t see yet—
only feel approaching.
- Writer
