Chapter 16 The Boardroom
1353 Words
The conference room felt colder than usual.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, but the sunlight did little to soften the tension thickening the air.
Gena stood outside the boardroom doors, fingers wrapped tightly around her folder.
For years—
She had entered this room with confidence.
Prepared.
Respected.
But today felt different.
Today—
She was not merely Acting President.
Not merely Jared Jacobo’s assistant.
Today—
She was scandal.
Beside her, Cherry adjusted her blazer and whispered—
“If anyone attacks you, blink twice and I’ll release emotional violence.”
Despite her nerves—
Gena smiled.
“You make terrible legal decisions.”
“I make loyal ones.”
The warmth helped.
But only slightly.
Ado approached.
“The board is ready.”
Her stomach tightened.
Ready for what?
Judgment?
Execution?
The heavy doors opened.
And immediately—
The atmosphere struck her.
Long mahogany table.
Shareholders seated formally.
Several senior board members.
Faces she knew.
Faces that once smiled warmly at her.
Now—
Most looked uncomfortable.
Some avoided her gaze.
And others—
Already looked disapproving.
At the far end of the table—
Jared sat calmly.
Dark suit.
Unreadable expression.
He did not look at her immediately.
Which somehow unsettled her.
Ado announced softly—
“Mrs. Jacobo.”
The title echoed awkwardly.
Gena entered.
Cherry stayed outside.
Probably for everyone’s safety.
One elderly shareholder cleared his throat.
“Please sit.”
She obeyed.
Silence lingered.
Then—
The questioning began.
Mr. Villanueva, one of the senior investors, adjusted his glasses.
“We’ll be direct.”
Gena straightened.
“There are concerns.”
Of course there were.
“The recent media attention,” another added, “has affected company image.”
Her fingers tightened.
She expected this.
Still—
It stung.
A woman near the center spoke next.
“Why was your marriage hidden?”
The question felt unfair.
Yet predictable.
Gena answered honestly.
“It was private.”
A skeptical silence followed.
“Three years of secrecy invites suspicion,” someone said.
Another voice joined.
“The public now believes personal matters influenced executive decisions.”
Her chest tightened.
No.
That—
That hurt.
Because she had earned her place.
Every late night.
Every sacrifice.
Every difficult decision.
She looked around the room.
“My work record speaks for itself.”
Some faces softened.
Others remained cold.
But then—
A familiar voice interrupted.
“And your relationship with Mr. Jacobo?”
The question came from Mr. Santos.
His expression remained polite.
Too polite.
“Does your marriage compromise company leadership?”
The implication hit hard.
Gold digger.
Favored wife.
Unqualified.
The same ugly assumptions—
Now dressed in corporate language.
Gena inhaled slowly.
“My marriage has never influenced my responsibilities.”
A shareholder leaned forward.
“But you now work directly under your husband.”
The room grew quiet.
And suddenly—
She understood.
This meeting was not discussion.
It was investigation.
Humiliation disguised as governance.
“I did not request reassignment.”
The confession slipped out before she could stop herself.
Silence.
Several board members exchanged looks.
And finally—
Jared looked at her.
Only briefly.
Yet she felt it.
Then—
A cold voice broke the room.
“Public scandal creates instability.”
Mr. Villanueva folded his hands.
“We must consider what is best for the company.”
Her pulse slowed.
There it was.
The real reason.
Not concern.
Removal.
One shareholder spoke carefully.
“With respect, perhaps Mrs. Jacobo should take temporary leave.”
The words struck harder than expected.
Temporary leave.
Polite exile.
Her throat tightened.
Years.
She had given years to this company.
And now—
They wanted her gone because of headlines.
Before she could answer—
Another voice agreed.
“The press remains aggressive.”
“She has become distraction.”
“Investors are nervous.”
The discussion spread quickly.
And for the first time—
Gena felt truly alone.
Her gaze dropped toward the table.
Humiliation burned quietly beneath her composure.
Maybe Sarah had succeeded.
Maybe this was how it ended.
Then—
A chair moved.
The sound cut sharply through the room.
Everyone looked up.
Jared stood.
Instant silence followed.
And immediately—
The atmosphere changed.
Because Jared Jacobo rarely stood without purpose.
His expression remained calm.
But his eyes—
His eyes looked dangerously cold.
“I’ve listened long enough.”
The room quieted completely.
Mr. Santos cleared his throat.
“We are discussing company welfare—”
“No.”
Jared’s voice sliced cleanly through him.
“You’re discussing optics.”
Silence.
And suddenly—
The shareholders looked uneasy.
Jared placed both hands lightly against the table.
His gaze swept the room.
“You question her qualifications.”
No one answered.
Interesting.
Because minutes ago—
They were eager.
Now—
They hesitated.
“You question her judgment.”
His expression hardened.
“Yet none of you questioned the company’s performance when she managed it.”
The room grew still.
Because everyone knew.
Profits had risen under Gena.
Projects expanded.
Employee retention improved.
J Corporation had survived difficult years—
Because she worked relentlessly.
Jared continued.
“Mrs. Jacobo carried this company while my father’s health declined.”
No one interrupted.
“She protected it.”
His gaze sharpened.
“And now you want to punish her because gossip became inconvenient?”
The silence felt heavier.
Gena looked at him.
Surprised.
Confused.
Because this—
This was defense.
Openly.
Publicly.
And somehow—
She had not expected it.
Mr. Villanueva shifted.
“We’re protecting shareholder confidence.”
Jared’s expression cooled.
“Then let me reassure you.”
His voice lowered.
Dangerously calm.
“Anyone questioning her place in this company is questioning mine.”
The room froze.
Her breath caught.
What?
Even the board looked stunned.
But Jared wasn’t finished.
He looked toward Gena briefly.
Then back to the room.
“She stays.”
No debate.
No compromise.
The authority in his voice stunned everyone.
And then—
He delivered the final blow.
“In fact…”
A slow silence followed.
“I’m appointing her Vice President.”
Shock exploded.
Mr. Santos nearly choked.
“What?!”
The room erupted.
Arguments.
Disbelief.
Voices rising.
And Gena—
Gena sat frozen.
Vice President?
Her heartbeat stumbled.
This—
This wasn’t part of his assistant arrangement.
Jared raised a hand.
The room immediately quieted.
His gaze remained icy.
“She earned it.”
No one argued again.
Not openly.
Because suddenly—
This was no longer about scandal.
It was power.
And Jared had just used his.
The meeting ended in stunned silence.
One by one—
The shareholders left.
Uneasy.
Defeated.
Until only two people remained.
Gena.
And Jared.
The room suddenly felt too large.
Too quiet.
She looked at him.
“Why?”
He loosened his cuff slowly.
“You needed protection.”
Her brows tightened.
“I didn’t ask for it.”
“No.”
His gaze lifted.
“That’s your problem.”
Anger flickered.
“And what’s yours?”
A dangerous silence followed.
Then—
His voice lowered.
“You still think I’d let them tear you apart.”
The words startled her.
Because he sounded offended.
Almost angry—
On her behalf.
She stood.
“I could’ve defended myself.”
“I know.”
He looked at her steadily.
“But I wanted to do it first.”
Her pulse stumbled.
And suddenly—
The air between them felt strange again.
Complicated.
Heavy.
Then—
His phone vibrated.
The screen lit up.
Unknown Number.
He answered calmly.
“Yes?”
Silence.
And slowly—
His expression darkened.
Dangerously.
The voice on the other line said something that made his jaw tighten.
When he finally spoke—
His tone had changed.
Cold.
Controlled.
“Who sent them?”
Gena frowned.
Sent who?
The call ended.
And when Jared looked at her—
Something unsettling lingered in his eyes.
“A group of reporters,” he said quietly.
Her stomach tightened.
“They’re outside your apartment.”
The room went silent.
And suddenly—
The war no longer felt corporate.
It felt personal.
- Writer
