The boardroom was a battlefield.
Jason sat at the head of the long, black marble table, hands clasped, jaw tight. Around him, the directors of Russo Global threw accusations like knives — about stock dips, leaked reports, and missing funds.
A screen on the far wall displayed graphs bleeding red. The media was circling, investors panicking, and somewhere in that chaos, Jason could feel his control slipping grain by grain.
“This is temporary,” he said sharply. “The numbers will recover. The merger delays are due to restructuring—”
“Restructuring?” a silver-haired man cut in. “Jason, we’ve seen the figures. You overextended. You pushed too hard, too fast.”
Jason’s voice dropped to the ice. “That’s how we win.”
Another director sighed, rubbing his temples. “Your father built an empire on
