IN HER VEINS

CHAPTER 3

The atmosphere at Jones Enterprises headquarters was electric with tension. The shareholders’ meeting, a marathon of projections and debates, had just ended. Sylvester Jones, as always, commanded the room until the last word, his reputation for sharp decisions unmatched. Yet, as he exited the boardroom, his stride faltered ever so slightly—a detail only Xavier noticed.

The faint sheen on Sylvester’s brow, the tightness around his eyes, and the unsteady hand gripping the edge of the marble wall told Xavier everything he needed to know.

“Sir—” Xavier began, but the warning came too late. Sylvester’s knees buckled, his body collapsing against the cold marble floor. The thud echoed like a gunshot, freezing the flow of executives bustling through the corridor.

“Mr. Jones!” Xavier barked, dropping to his side. Chaos exploded around them as gasps and whispers filled the air.

“Someone call for medical assistance!” Xavier snapped, waving off the growing crowd. “Clear the hall!”

The elevator chimed open, and out stepped Victoria Dewitt, her sharp eyes narrowing at the scene. She pushed through the throng, just as Malcolm Stokes arrived from another corridor. Malcolm’s mask of concern barely concealed his predatory delight.

“What happened?” Victoria demanded, kneeling beside Xavier.

“He collapsed,” Xavier said tersely, his focus on dialing Dr. Evelyn Harper. He ignored the way Malcolm lingered, eyes calculating.

Minutes later, Sylvester was whisked to the rooftop helipad, Xavier never leaving his side. The rhythmic hum of the helicopter’s blades swallowed the murmur of the onlookers below. As the chopper disappeared into the skyline, the boardroom became a different kind of battlefield.

Victoria Dewitt took her seat at the head of the table, her authority filling the room. Malcolm leaned casually against the wall, his confidence like oil on water—slick and untrustworthy. Around the table, the other board members sat uneasily, caught in the crossfire of the two rival camps.

“We need answers,” Malcolm began, his voice laced with thinly veiled aggression. “Sylvester’s health is now a liability. The company cannot afford uncertainty.”

Victoria met his gaze with steely calm. “Sylvester has faced challenges before and triumphed. This is no different.”

“Don’t be naive,” Malcolm snapped, pushing off the wall. “He collapsed in the hallway! What else is he hiding? How long has this been going on?”

Victoria’s composure didn’t falter. “Until we have all the facts, conjecture serves no one. Least of all this company.”

“Or maybe it serves you,” Malcolm said, his voice rising. His challenge hung in the air, sharpening the divide in the room.

Victoria’s tone hardened. “We owe him loyalty, not a witch hunt.”

But Malcolm was relentless, leaning into the unease he’d sown among the board. “This isn’t about loyalty—it’s about survival. If Sylvester can’t lead, we need to act. Hesitation will cost us the confidence of our shareholders.”

As the day stretched into night, Malcolm worked the room like a seasoned tactician, pulling members aside to plant seeds of doubt. “We can’t afford a leader whose health is a ticking time bomb,” he whispered to one. To another: “If he’s kept this secret, what else is he hiding? Trust is broken.”

Victoria, equally aware of the stakes, countered with quiet persistence. Over coffee breaks and hallway whispers, she reminded members of Sylvester’s brilliance, his vision, and his unshakable leadership through past crises. Yet, even she couldn’t deny the cracks forming in their loyalty.

When Victoria finally confronted Xavier that evening, her patience had worn thin. “How bad is it?” she demanded.

Xavier’s loyalty to Sylvester was unwavering. “I can’t discuss his private matters.”

“Don’t be a fool,” she hissed. “Malcolm is rallying the board against him. If you don’t help me, Sylvester will lose everything.”

Xavier hesitated. His silence spoke volumes.

At the hospital, Sylvester awoke to the steady beep of monitors and the concerned gaze of Dr. Evelyn Harper.

“How bad?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

Evelyn hesitated, her expression grim. “Your condition is deteriorating faster than expected. The stress isn’t helping. We need a compatible donor, Sylvester. And soon.”

Sylvester’s jaw tightened. “And if we don’t find one?”

Evelyn didn’t answer, but the look in her eyes was enough.

As Xavier updated Sylvester on the board’s activities, his resolve hardened. “A vote of no confidence?” Sylvester repeated, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation. “They won’t get the chance.”

Two days later, the board convened for the critical vote. Malcolm, emboldened by his growing support, took center stage.

“I move for a vote of no confidence in Mr. Jones,” Malcolm declared, his voice confident. “This is about securing the future of Jones Enterprises.”

Victoria shot to her feet. “This is reckless and premature! Sylvester built this company. You would throw him aside over a temporary setback?”

“This isn’t personal,” Malcolm retorted, though his smirk betrayed him. “It’s about leadership.”

The doors to the boardroom swung open, silencing the room. Sylvester stepped inside, his tailored suit pristine, his shoulders squared. The faint outline of an IV line beneath his sleeve didn’t diminish his commanding presence.

“I believe I’m still the leader of this company,” Sylvester said, his voice like steel. “And I intend to remain so.”

Malcolm’s confidence wavered as Sylvester strode to the head of the table. His pale complexion couldn’t mask the fire in his eyes.

“This company is my legacy,” Sylvester continued, his voice unwavering. “Anyone who thinks they can take it from me will find themselves sorely mistaken.”

The room held its breath as Sylvester locked eyes with Malcolm. “If you’re so confident in your abilities, Malcolm, step up. Challenge me. But let’s be clear—Jones Enterprises will not fall because of your ambition.”

Malcolm faltered, his grip on control slipping. Around the table, unease rippled through the board.

Victoria allowed herself the faintest smile. “It seems our leader has spoken.”

The battle was far from over, but for now, Sylvester had reasserted his dominance. As he left the room, he felt the weight of his condition pressing against him—but also the fire of his determination. Malcolm might plot, the board might waver, and his time might be short.

But Sylvester Jones wasn’t finished yet.