CHAPTER SEVEN
1040 Words
CHAPTER SEVEN
ELSA
The boardroom smelt entirely of fear, uncertainty and lies the moment it swung open.
The first thing I noticed when I stepped in was that the board members were all men.
There was not a single woman in sight among the suited individuals.
Every one of them turned to look at me as I made my way in.
This was one of my main debuts into the cooperate world.
All Labano's plan—I had to thank him for that, the foresight.
I had been dutifully preparing for this moment for the past two years.
Now that I was CEO, I intended to enjoy every bit of this powerful identity.
I straightened my shoulders before I began to walk to the head of the table.
My purple stiletto heels making clicking noises against the floor soothed me.
I had walked in late on purpose—just enough to make them wait and not seem rude.
They all rose to their feet as I made myself comfortable in the swivel chair.
Their greeting was a chorus.
"Good morning to all," I replied, looking around the air-conditioned room.
Some of the men smiled, uncomfortably while others just nodded.
It would seem they were still adjusting to having a woman as their CEO.
"Arlene we going to begin the meeting?" I asked when no one moved.
A few seconds passed before one of the younger men scrambled forward.
"The agenda, ma'am," he stuttered as he placed a folder in front of me.
"Thank you."
I opened the folder slowly as they began to discuss the quarterly reports.
"Excuse me," I said in a clear voice, about to point out an error I had seen.
Before I could speak, the door to the boardroom burst open.
I turned my head towards the figure who stepped inside and my heart stopped.
Dickinson Singh.
He walked into the room like he owned the place in a perfectly tailored white suit.
I opened my mouth to speak, to say something, but closed it back.
"My apologies for being late," he said smoothly. "The traffic was terrible."
What exactly was he doing here?
Why on earth would be stalk me into an important meeting such as this?
"What are you doing here?" I asked in a steady voice that was hard.
"I came for a glimpse of your beauty face darling Elsa," he started.
I rolled my eyes.
He couldn't mean that.
"I am curious to see how a woman will manage the bid she won, without experience of course," he mused.
My breath hitched.
The smile he flashed me was mocking.
My fingers tightened around the edge of the table as I forced myself to breathe.
I could see what he was doing.
He was trying to undermine my authority on the first day here, in front of all these people who I needed to listen to me.
I wouldn't let him.
"Mr. Singh," I said in a composed voice as he sat down across from me. "I wasn't aware you were on the board."
"Oh yes."
His eyes never left my face.
"You will be pleased to know I recently acquired Mr. Peterson's shares," he explained. "It was such a tragedy, his accident."
The entire room went quiet.
Everyone knew about Peterson.
He was the second largest share holder in the company after me.
It was tragic what had happened to him just a while back.
I was informed that he had fallen from his balcony two nights ago.
The police said it was suicide.
But now that Dickinson was here, saying it with that look, I definitely knew better.
He had killed him, poor Peterson, ended his life to acquire his shares.
I had seen Dickinson do things like this before when I was still Isla.
Back when I still flinched at his voice.
He conveniently made people disappear through disguised misfortune.
Like Eric.
Something rushed up in my veins, hot and brutal, almost uncontrollable.
But I held it back.
I swallowed the lump in my throat.
"Yes," I said, choosing my words carefully. "It was a terrible loss."
He nodded, leaning back, his eyes going over me unashamedly.
"Let's continue," I announced, looking away before I would explode in rage.
The meeting carried on with Dickinson watching me the entire time.
His fixed unwelcome gaze prickled my skin and churned my stomach.
I tried my best to ignore it, moving through approvals, budgets, projects and all other things which needed my signature.
I spoke only when needed in a calm but clear voice that conveyed one message.
No one must question me.
I made sure they saw Elsa Etxebarriia as a poised brutal leader and not the girl who had almost died in a container.
When the meeting ended, people started Whisper the moment I walked out.
I didn't mind them
I had other things to worry about, like the fact that Dickinson was in the board.
"Elsa," Dickinson called out behind me, just before he blocked my path.
I held his gaze, seeing the soft amusement dancing in his calculating eyes.
"Can I help you Mr Singh?" I pushed out through gritted teeth.
"Would you join me for lunch?"
"I am afraid I have another appointment," I lied. "And it's Miss Etxebarriia to you."
We were not on first name basis.
His brows lifted.
Surprised, I guess.
I ignored him and resumed locomotion.
But he followed me, the persistent fly.
Every step he took to catch up with me caused my pulse to quicken.
His hand caught my elbow and spun me around to face him.
I gasped as I whirled.
Then, he stopped the spin, his right hand wrapping around my waist.
“I said I am busy,” I snapped as the scent of his peculiar cologne filled my nostrils.
I hated the memories it stirred.
“You must have been busy since the auction,” he murmured.
He stepped closer.
My entire body froze, pressed against his as my mind skipped to three years ago.
I saw myself with him at the dining, in this same position, a jack knife his hands.
"I could slit your throat here Isla, and no one would ever know you died."
- Writer
