Chapter 84 The Boardroom
Marcus was waiting. Tablet in hand, jaw set, eyes flicking toward the secondary boardroom.
“They’re all in there,” he said quietly. “Full attendance, physical and remote. The drop hit 9.50% at the lowest. It’s clawed back 2 points since your statement went live, but the algorithms are still twitchy.”
Through the frosted glass I could see them, fourteen board members, seven physically present around the long black table, seven larger-than-life faces on the video wall. No chairman. No hierarchy beyond shareholding and tenure. My father had dissolved that formality years ago. I was CEO. I was also the largest individual shareholder: 61.3% after he transferred his stake to me. The rest were family allies, institutional funds, and a handful of old-blood werewolves who’d been loyal since before I was born.
I pushed both doors open. Conversation died instantly.
Every head turned. Human and werewolf alike.
I didn’t sit at the head of the table. I walked to the center of the room and stopped, hands loose at my sides.
Silence stretched, thick, expectant.
Reginald Grant spoke first, silver temples, perpetual scowl. One of the three who’d always quietly favored Ben. “Nine-point-five percent, Alexander. That’s not a blip. That’s hemorrhaging.”
Thorpe, leaned forward. “The photos are everywhere. Doctored or not, perception is reality, you stood at that podium and basically confirmed the affair.”
A third voice, Voss, distant branch, always angling for more voting power, added dryly, “You called her ‘the woman I love.’ On live television. While she’s still legally married to Ben.”
Two more board members, humans, both institutional reps, shifted uncomfortably but stayed silent. They knew better than to get into my bad book.
I let the accusations hang for three full seconds, then I spoke.
“I’m not here to debate perception. I’m here because someone leaked lies to damage this company, and I intend to stop the bleeding.”
Reginald snorted. “By confessing on camera?”
“By telling the truth.” My voice stayed level. “The marriage to Ben was a temporary contract, one year. Dissolution after he secured his board seat. He knew the terms, she knew the terms. The only surprise was mine, when I realized who she was on the wedding day.”
Thorpe raised an eyebrow. “And you continued the relationship anyway?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. “Because I love her. Because Ben’s arrangement explicitly allowed both parties to pursue other relationships discreetly. I honored that clause.”
A low ripple of murmurs, some shocked, some unsurprised.
William Brown, oldest member present, leaned back in his chair. Werewolf, like me. Like more than half this room. His eyes met mine for a single second, gold flickering behind the human brown. Silent support.
Reginald wasn’t finished. “Love doesn’t justify tanking the share price. We’ve lost real money today. Real shareholder value. You need to step aside until this blows over.”
Thorpe nodded. “Interim CEO. Give the market breathing room.”
Voss added, “Or at least suspend your day-to-day authority. Let cooler heads manage the narrative.”
Two more voices murmured agreement, both humans who rarely spoke unless the numbers were screaming.
I looked around the table, then at the screens.
More than half the faces looking back were pack members. The low simmer of anger rolling off them like heat from a furnace. Protective. Furious. Not at me, at Ben. William Brown spoke next. Voice gravelly, calm, carrying the weight of authority at this table.
“No need for him to step down.”
All eyes swung to him.
“Nobody in this room can run this company better than Alexander,” he continued. “Not you, Reginald. Not you, Thorpe. Not any interim placeholder the headhunters would send us. This is the first time anything personal has touched Blackwood Enterprises. One bad news cycle, one dip, cut the boy some slack.”
A few heads nodded, slow, deliberate. Werewolf allies mostly, though three humans murmured in agreement.
Reginald’s face tightened. “Slack doesn’t pay dividends.”
William’s gaze sharpened. “And panic sells stock. Alexander just stood in front of cameras and took ownership. The shares have already recovered two points in under an hour. Markets like decisiveness. They hate uncertainty. Let him finish what he started.”
Thorpe opened his mouth.
William cut him off. “Vote.”
Juliana Copper, human, but sharp enough to read the room, nodded once. “All in favor of Alexander remaining CEO with full operational authority?”
Hands rose. Mine stayed down, I don’t vote for myself.
William’s hand went up immediately. Four more followed, seven total.
“Opposed?” Eleanor asked.
Reginald’s hand shot up. Thorpe’s. Voss. Two more, both humans who rarely contradicted Reginald.
Five.
Eleanor glanced at the screens. Two more hands rose in favor from remote feeds, both pack members.
“Motion carries,” she said quietly. “Alexander retains full authority.”
Reginald sat back, face dark. Thorpe crossed his arms. The rest exhaled, some relieved, some stood up and walked out.
Eleanor looked at me. “You have forty-eight hours to stabilize sentiment. After that we expect results, not speeches.”
I nodded once. “You’ll have them.”
The room began to empty, chairs pushed back, monitors blinking off, quiet conversations starting in clusters. William lingered.
He walked over, clasped my shoulder. Human gesture to anyone watching. To me, pack pressure, steady and warm.
“You did good in there,” he said low. “Ben’s playing with fire he doesn’t understand. When you’re ready, say the word.”
I met his eyes. “I will.” He squeezed once, then left.
Marcus waited until we were alone in the corridor.
“Legal’s drafting the final dissolution papers for Ben’s marriage contract. We can file quietly tomorrow if she agrees.”
I nodded. “She will.”
He hesitated. “Sir… the two-point recovery is real. But it’s fragile. One more leak…”
“There won’t be.” I pulled out my phone. “I’m going home.”
Marcus blinked. “Now, but we still have more matters to handle?”
“Now.”
I dialed Maddie as I walked toward the private elevator.
She answered on the first ring.
“Alexander?”
“Hey.” My voice softened the second I heard her. “I’m coming home.”
A small exhale. “The board…?”
“Settled for now. They voted, I’ll stay.”
Relief flooded her tone. “Good. I was worried.”
“Don’t be.” The elevator doors opened. “I’ll be there in thirty minutes.”
“Okay.” The call ended.
I stepped inside, doors closing behind me. I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes for the first time all morning. Ben had wanted to hurt me, he’d hurt the wrong person. And now he was going to learn exactly how expensive that mistake could be