Chapter 85 The Needle That Broke Him
Mark’s POV
6:42 AM, Friday Morning.
The sound hit me first; hundreds of voices clashing, chanting, screaming my name like a curse.
By the time Collins pulled the car to a stop in front of Simmons Tower, the sight of the crowd waiting for me fely like a punch to the ribs.
Protesters. Reporters. Investors.
My vision had become used to the clicks of cameras flashes around.
Handmade boards wave in the air:
“SIMMONS = ADDICT”
“STEP DOWN MARK!”
“DRUG-HEAD CEO”
I had made it to the spotlight again.
“I didn’t do anything,” I whisper, mostly to myself.
Collins’ voice was very cautious. “Sir… they released the announcement at dawn. The moment the article dropped, Simmons Group stock started falling. Nine percent in the first hour.”
I blink. “Nine?”
“And… still dropping.”
The board of CEOs would love to hear this.
As I stepped out of the vehicle, the crowd overtook the securities.
“MR. SIMMONS, IS IT TRUE YOU’RE USING?”
“ARE YOU IN REHAB ALREADY?”
“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN AN ADDICT?”
I said nothing. If I opened my mouth to say a word, it would definitely be twisted be my counterparts.
Inside the lobby, chaos waited again.
Employees whisper. Some couldnt even meet my eyes.
Others shockingly, step back from me like I was contagious.
Filthy rags!
Collins walked beside me, stiff, angry. “We should have seen this coming.”
I don’t respond. I could barely think.
The board members were already waiting in the conference room.
From one board meeting to another, this was hell alot!
They didn’t even invite me to sit.
“Mark,” Chairman Reynolds began, his voice was already at the highest pitch “the company is under fire.
“Investors are threatening to pull out. Our stock is collapsing. Your scandal is destroying everything we built.”
My jaw clenches. “I didn’t take anything.”
Reynolds exhaled harshly. “Then prove it. Take a test.”
The silence settled, heavy and suffocating.
I lifted my chin. “Fine. I have nothing to hide.”
But the look they exchanged told me something was going to get wrong.
Collins squeezed my shoulder, murmuring, “We’ll clear this. You’re clean. We know you’re clean.”
I nodded, even though something cold was crawling down my spine.
Something felt … staged.
Like a trap I walked into willingly.
We headed to the hospital wing inside the building.
A nurse drew the blood while avoiding my eyes.
My fingers tremble slightly as I pull my sleeve down.
Collins tried to lighten the air. “This will blow over. Once the results come out clean, they’ll have nothing left to throw.”
I try to smile back, but it came out as a thin chuckle.
We had to wait for some minutes for the result to be out.
Every second was like a rope tightening around my chest.
Finally, the door flew open and he doctor walked in with a clipboard.
His face could tell me everything.
“Mr. Simmons…” he says quietly, “your test came back positive.”
For a moment, no one moved.
Collins turned so still he might be carved from stone. “That’s impossible.”
The doctor swallowed . “I double-checked. It’s… consistent. The substance is present in his bloodstream.”
Present.
Not possible.
My voice comes out so soft I barely hear it myself:
“…I didn’t take anything.”
I look around the room, waiting for someone to say this is a mistake, a cruel joke. But the doctor only bowed his head. Collins stared at the floor.
The walk back to the boardroom felt like walking to an execution.
The moment I got in, the board arise not in respect but judgment.
“Due to overwhelming evidence,” Chairman Reynolds began, “and for the protection of Simmons Group, ”
I already knew what next wss to come. After all I made the rule.
“...you are hereby relieved of your duties as CEO.”
My knees went weak. It was more like the room had gotten short of air as I found it had to breathe.
“With immediate effect,” he added coldly.
“Director Hale Reed will serve as Acting CEO while we look into MD Daniel's folder for management,”
Wow!
.
My fingers curl, nails digging into my palm. “You can’t do this. I’m telling you, someone set me up.”
Reynolds stared intensely at me. “You tested positive. That is enough.”
Security stepped closer.
“This is my company,” I whisper. “My father’s, this is…this is mine.”
Reynolds looks away. “Escort him to the Rehabilitation Center”
Rehabilitation Center.
The word hit me like a brick to the ribs. My legs nearly buckled.
Security moved to flank me. Cameras were already waiting outside the door.
This is a show.
A public execution dressed as concern.
I couldn't resist, fighting would make me look only worse with the media around.
As they push me toward the exit, reporters swarm instantly.
“MARK, ARE YOU GOING TO REHAB?”
“HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN USING?”
“WERE YOU HIGH WHILE RUNNING THE COMPANY?”
The flashes almost blinded me. Their loud voices were like stabs to my ear.
I wish the ground would open up to swallow me but nahhh..
I managed to make my way back to the vehicle. Whether I wanted it not, I had go to the rehab for publicity sake.
Who ever it was, had the sense to involve the press in it.
Nice strategy.
I got into the company's vehicle like a nobody. I had been strapped off of my power.
My hands shook.uncontrollably on my lap.
Collins stood outside helplessly, arguing with security, but the car began to move before he can stop them.
I lean my head back, swallowing the burn in my eyes.
Then, I saw them both.
Masrerminders of the craft.
Up on the fifth-floor balcony of Simmons Tower… two figures stand watching the car.
Daniel and Milla.
Daniel’s posture is relaxed, one hand in his pocket.
Milla leaned on the railing slightly, her red lips curved into smirking.
Daniel’s eyes meet mine through the tinted glass.
And in them…
Were victory, satisfaction.