Spark
1107 Words
CHAPTER 3
Dalton’s POV
Her mouth had opened, just slightly, then closed again. She looked like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, I almost regretted putting her on the spot. Almost.
Finally, she spoke.
“I think…” Her voice was soft, but it carried through the quiet room. “I think the proposal is ambitious, but it assumes too much about how quickly the Riverside property can be secured. The family dispute hasn’t been settled, and without that, no agreement is ironclad. On paper, three weeks looks possible. In practice… it isn’t that neat.”
Interesting.
I studied her. Her hands tightened around the notepad in front of her, knuckles pale, but her gaze stayed steady. Nervous, yes, but not weak. She meant every word.
The board members shifted uncomfortably. My second-in-command, Liam, leaned forward with a frown.
“That’s an overstatement,” Liam said sharply. “The family dispute is noise. We’ve cut through worse. If we wait for everything to resolve naturally, competitors will eat us alive.”
I leaned back in my chair, letting the silence stretch. She didn’t break eye contact with him. Bold.
“With respect,” she said, her tone firmer now, “there’s a difference between moving fast and moving recklessly. If one heir challenges the settlement, the deal stalls in court. If that happens, the exclusivity contracts tied to Riverside collapse before they even begin.”
The room stirred. A few executives exchanged glances, whispering under their breath. Nobody spoke to me that way. Nobody challenged Liam like that, either.
I felt something stir in me, a flicker of curiosity, sharp as a blade.
“Explain,” I said, cutting through the murmurs.
She swallowed, took a breath, then pointed lightly at the document glowing on the screen.
“Here,” she said. “The exclusivity clause. If it’s tied directly to Riverside and the court delays ownership, it isn’t just one stalled property it undermines the entire global rollout. You’d be handing your competitors the very opening you’re trying to close.”
Liam scoffed. “That’s speculation.”
But I held up my hand, silencing him. She continued.
“And the antitrust risk,” she added carefully. “Exclusive worldwide distribution, without competition? Regulators will notice. If they block it or even delay approval you’re exposed. There’s no backup, no secondary path. All of it hinges on Riverside clearing perfectly in record time. That isn’t strategy. That’s gambling.”
The room fell quiet again.
I studied her carefully. She wasn’t wrong. In fact, she was speaking the language I valued most control. Stability. No cracks. She saw the fault lines clearly, where the others were blinded by speed and hunger.
I tapped a finger against the table, slow, deliberate.
“You’re saying,” I murmured, “that we’re building on unstable ground.”
Her lips pressed together, but she nodded. “Yes.”
I leaned forward slightly, my gaze never leaving hers. “And what would you suggest instead?”
Her eyes flickered, but she didn’t look away. “Multiple tracks. Secure Riverside, yes but don’t tie the contracts solely to it. Structure regional agreements in parallel. That way, if Riverside drags, you still move forward. Regulators can’t accuse you of creating a monopoly overnight, and competitors can’t use the delay against you.”
A silence swept over the table like a wave.
The executives shifted uncomfortably. Some looked annoyed, others thoughtful. Liam’s jaw was tight, his pride wounded. But me? I felt something I hadn’t felt in years a spark of genuine intrigue.
I turned my gaze to Liam. “And why,” I asked softly, “did you not see this?”
Liam stammered, his face flushing. “With respect, sir, I… I didn’t think redundancy was necessary given the timeline.”
“History,” I said, my tone sharp, “is a liar. It makes men lazy. Blind.”
Liam swallowed hard, lowering his gaze. The others remained silent.
I leaned back again, considering. This voice in the crowd had seen what the others had missed. Or perhaps refused to see.
Finally, I let the silence stretch long enough to make them sweat, then spoke.
“She’s right.”
Gasps rippled around the table.
I turned back to her, my eyes narrowing. “What’s your name?”
She hesitated, just for a heartbeat, then answered.
“Madison Sterling,” she said.
I repeated it slowly in my mind. Madison.
“Ms. Sterling,” I said, my voice calm, measured, “you’ve just saved this company from a mistake worth millions.”
The color rose in her cheeks, but she kept her composure. Good. Nerves were acceptable weakness was not.
“From now on,” I continued, “you will attend these meetings. Sit here. Speak when I ask. If you see something, say it.”
Her eyes widened slightly. Around us, the board shifted uncomfortably. Liam looked like he might choke.
“But, Mr. Hale…” one of the older executives started.
I cut him off with a glance. Cold. Final. He shut his mouth immediately.
My attention returned to her. Madison Sterling. There was something about the way she had spoken, not just her words, but her certainty. She wasn’t playing a game. She believed what she said.
I studied her a moment longer, then rose from my chair. The meeting was over.
“Gentlemen,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument, “adjust the proposal. Build redundancy. Restructure the contracts. And make sure this oversight never happens again.”
The others scrambled to gather their notes, standing quickly. Madison remained still, uncertain, until I looked directly at her.
“Walk with me,” I said.
Her eyes widened slightly, but she nodded, standing.
We left the boardroom together, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken whispers. Behind us, the others murmured, no doubt questioning who she was, why she had been given a seat at the table.
But I didn’t care.
I wanted to know more.
Who was Madison Sterling?
And why did it feel like she had just stepped into a world she wasn’t ready for?
As the door closed behind us, I glanced sideways at her. She was keeping pace, her chin lifted, her expression carefully neutral. But I saw the truth in her eyes uncertainty, nerves, and something else.
Something that told me she had no idea what she had just walked into.
Because in my world, once you speak up, once you step into the light there is no going back.
And Madison Sterling had just painted a target on her back.
- Writer
