Chapter 31 The Fall
Mark’s POV
“Silence,” I yelled with my mic. Everyone kept quiet and stared at me.
The conference room smelled like stale coffee and panic.
Everyone was talking at once, sharp voices. Arguments while flipping through files that no one was really reading.
I sat at the head of the long glass table, staring at the Simmons logo on the far wall like it could give me answers.
“The chaos should stop, Collins read the report,”
“Investors are pulling out,” Collins said, his tie askew. “Two major partners want a full refund,”
“If we keep making refunds, the company would crash,” the financial manager exhaled.
“I have already spoken to them,” Collins cut in, too quickly. “They’re scared because of the headlines. Once the media calms…”
“It won’t,” I said, my voice flatter than I meant. “
It never does.”
The room went still.
I looked around at the faces that once waited for my approval, now waiting for someone to blame.
The air was heavy with that kind of fear that didn’t need shouting to be loud.
“We can’t hide,” I said.
“We would need to take the last measure to generate enough funds to refund for the investment,”
Collins frowned. “Meaning what exactly?”
I straightened the pen in front of me. “We’ll open the company shares to the public. Full transparency. Let them see the numbers. Let trust rebuild itself.”
“Mark,” Olivia started, shaking her head.
“That’s suicide. We’ll lose control.”
“You're not a member of this board,” I stated clearly and she shut up embarrassed.
“But Sir, she's right,” the information unit manager chipped in.
“Maybe control’s not the point anymore,” I said quietly. “Maybe survival is.”
The room fell silent again, and for a brief second I thought I heard my heartbeat echo against the glass.
After a long pause, Collins exhaled. “You’re serious.”
“I am.”
No one argued after that. They didn’t need to.
The exhaustion in their faces said enough.
“Release the News,” I ordered.
That was final judgement and there was nothing they could do.
When the meeting ended, everyone left in slow motion, papers tucked under arms, eyes avoiding mine.
Olivia lingered by the door, as if she wanted to say something, but in the end, she just nodded and walked out.
Later, in my office, I sat with my laptop open, staring at an unread email.
Becca’s name glowed in the inbox.
I should’ve deleted it. Instead, I clicked.
Fuck
She had mailed her resignation. I kind of expected it low key with everything happening around us.
This is for the best. Please don’t call me.
There was no greeting, no signature. No emotion, at least not one I could read.
I read it again and again until the words blurred.
Probably, she was really back with Asher.
My chest ached in a way that wasn’t new, just sharper now.
The kind of pain that doesn’t scream, it just sits there, quiet and constant.
My phone buzzed,
“Speak,”
“Sir, the public announcement steadied the press for now,” It was from the PR department.
Well that was some sort of victory.
When I got home, the silence felt too big. Bottles littered the counter, the remnants of last night’s failed attempt to forget. The smell of whiskey clung to the room.
I loosened my tie and poured another drink I didn’t need. The burn was the only thing that made sense.
Everywhere I looked, she was there, in the half-folded blanket on the couch, the cup she used to steal from my shelf.
It was like she’d left ghosts instead of things.
A soft knock at the door pulled me out of the fog.
Olivia stood there, holding a small paper bag and forcing a smile. “You didn’t eat today,” she said. “I brought something.”
I hesitated but stepped aside. “You didn’t have to.”
“I know,” she said, setting the bag on the table. “But someone should.”
The smell of pasta filled the space, its aroma and appearance made my stomach rumble.
She sat across from me, watching me like I might shatter any second.
“You did the right thing today,” she said. “Opening the shares. The team is just… they’re scared.”
“So am I.”
She blinked. “You?”
I almost laughed. “Yeah. I’m not bulletproof, Olivia.”
She smiled sadly. “You used to be.”
I looked at her, her tired eyes, soft voice, someone who had stayed when most didn’t.
She was also a victim like me. She had been dragged into this mess.
“I'm sorry,” I grumbled. I could see the surprise that flitted on her face.
“It's okay, it's not like it's your fault,”
“Thank you,” I said quietly. “For staying and for caring.”
She moved closer, her hand brushing mine. “You don’t have to be alone in this, Mark.”
Her voice cracked on my name. I didn’t move when she leaned closer. For a heartbeat, her lips touched mine, soft, glossy.
She tasted like cinnamon.
Becca
Her face literally flashed on my face and then I pulled away.
“I can’t,” I said. My voice came out rough.
She drew back, blinking hard. “I’m sorry, I just..”
“No,” I said, standing. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. I just… I can’t.”
She nodded, gathering her bag, eyes glistening. “You’re breaking, Mark. You don’t have to pretend.”
“I’m not pretending,” I said. “I’m just trying to survive.”
She hesitated at the door.
“Your rivals are circling, you know. They’re saying your company’s next quarter will bury you.”
“I’ve been buried before.” I tried to smile, but failed. “Go home, Olivia. Get some rest. You’ve done enough.”
She wanted to argue but didn’t. “Take care of yourself, please.”
When she left, the quiet returned, heavier this time.
My phone buzzed again — Carmen calling.
I stared at the screen until it stopped ringing. Then I turned it face down and finished the drink in one swallow.
Outside, the city lights flickered like dying stars. Inside, the shadows didn’t move.
For the first time, I wondered if I’d finally reached the part of my life where everything that mattered was already gone.