Broken Glass and Boardroom Games
1119 Words
The boardroom at Vale Holdings was colder than usual, or perhaps Elara was just feeling the chill of what was to come.
She sat beside Cassian at the head of the long, polished mahogany table, surrounded by twenty-two of the company’s most powerful stakeholders. Everyone was dressed in tailored armor; custom suits, silk ties, and diamond-studded pens.
Julian strolled in ten minutes late, all smug confidence, like he already owned the room. He greeted a few board members with that smooth politician’s smile, then took a seat opposite Cassian.
Elara kept her face neutral, but her stomach coiled.
She could feel the shift in the air, like wolves circling.
Cassian leaned slightly toward her. “Don’t speak unless I cue you.”
She nodded once. “I know.”
What he didn’t know was that she had her own plan. One she hadn’t yet told him. One that might change everything.
Julian stood to open the meeting.
“Thank you all for coming,” he began smoothly, buttoning his blazer with a practiced motion. “Today’s meeting will determine the direction Vale Holdings takes in the coming decade. As you know, I’ve submitted a formal vote of no confidence against our current CEO, citing financial mismanagement and conflicts of interest.”
He passed around thick folders to each board member.
“Included are details of questionable expenditures, fluctuating partnerships, and a trend of secrecy that no company of our size can afford.”
Elara flipped open the folder in front of her. Julian had included doctored charts and exaggerated claims. Every expense had a sinister spin. Even their charity fund was painted as “strategic laundering.”
Cassian didn’t flinch. When Julian finished, he stood.
“Thank you, Julian. But unlike your fiction, I prefer facts.”
He opened his own laptop and linked it to the projection screen.
Charts appeared. Clean. Transparent. Backed by third-party audits and signed approvals.
Cassian pointed to a highlighted section. “These expenses were approved by this very board. Including by you, Julian. And as for partnerships? They’ve yielded a twenty-seven percent return this quarter.”
Murmurs filled the room.
Julian’s jaw ticked. “You’re ignoring the deeper issue...”
“No,” Cassian interrupted coldly. “You’re ignoring the fact that you’ve been using shell companies to try and manipulate this board behind the scenes.”
Livia, seated at the opposite end, slid forward a black folder marked Confidential. “If I may, I’ve gathered evidence of three such entities linked to Julian’s name and managed by his assistant under false aliases.”
Julian’s smirk faltered.
Cassian looked around the room. “The real question is, do you want a man like that running this company?”
The vote began.
One by one, the members cast their ballots.
Elara could barely breathe.
Cassian: retained.
Julian: failed to gain majority support.
Julian didn’t sit down. He turned toward Elara, eyes burning.
“This isn’t over.”
Cassian stood. “Oh, it is. And now we’re going to talk about your side dealings in Monaco.”
Gasps filled the room as the next file flashed on the screen.
After the meeting, Elara retreated into one of the smaller lounges while Cassian and Livia handled press statements and internal damage control. Her head buzzed with the aftershock.
She had seen war in a boardroom now.
And survived.
The door opened quietly. Kara slipped in and leaned against the wall.
“You were calm as hell in there.”
“I felt like I was going to throw up.”
“That’s what power feels like when it first hits you.”
Elara stared at her. “I’m not powerful.”
“You will be.”
They shared a quiet look before Kara’s phone buzzed and she excused herself. As the door clicked shut, Elara finally allowed herself a moment to unravel.
Until someone else entered the room.
Julian.
“What do you want?” she asked, stiffening instantly.
Julian shut the door behind him. “Relax, Elara. I just wanted to talk.”
“We have nothing to talk about.”
“You and I have everything to talk about.” He stepped closer. “You really think Cassian’s going to protect you forever?”
Elara’s voice was steady. “He already has.”
Julian smirked. “You know, I used to admire you. Jason was an i***t, but you? You had this fire in you back then. I wonder where it went.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe it’s been tempered. Maybe I’m not as breakable as I used to be.”
Julian’s smile slipped. “Just remember, Cassian’s loyalty doesn’t come for free. And the moment you stop being useful, he’ll discard you like the rest.”
“He’s not like you.”
“Isn’t he?” Julian leaned in, voice a whisper. “You really think he married you out of love? You’re part of his plan. That’s it.”
Her hands clenched into fists, but she didn’t let him see the tremble.
Julian turned to leave, but paused at the door.
“Don’t forget, Elara, every bride has her price.”
That night, Cassian found her in the rooftop garden, wrapped in a coat, her hair whipping in the wind.
He slid beside her without a word.
“You handled him,” she said quietly.
“He underestimated you,” he replied. “That was his biggest mistake.”
She looked at him, uncertain. “Why me, Cassian? Why not marry someone with influence, or power? Someone more… capable?”
His brow furrowed. “You think you’re not capable?”
“You’ve built an empire. I was… no one. A broken girl who could barely face a crowd.”
“You were never no one.”
He reached out, fingers brushing her jaw.
“I married you because I saw the strength you didn’t even recognize in yourself. And because I knew, the moment you walked into that engagement dinner, that you would change everything.”
Her breath caught.
“And because,” he added, voice lower, “you make me believe I’m not completely ruined.”
The words were soft. Vulnerable.
Real.
Elara felt her heart unravel, just slightly.
“You’re not ruined,” she whispered. “You just built too many walls.”
Cassian stepped closer, hand cupping the back of her neck.
“And you’re the only one who ever tried to climb them.”
Then he kissed her.
It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was a slow-burning fire, coiling deep in her spine, unraveling everything she thought she knew about him… and herself.
When they broke apart, neither said a word.
They didn’t need to.
- Writer
