DON'T TOUCH HER

Chapter 008.

Lola's POV. 

I ended the call with Mia so quickly that my fingers nearly slipped on my phone. I lowered it slowly, pretending I hadn't been caught saying anything at all, even though Zack's expression told me he had heard enough. His eyes were fixed on me, cold and suspicious, while I tried to calm the panic racing through my chest.

"I wasn't talking about you," I said quickly.

Zack stepped farther into my office, his jaw tightening. "Then who were you talking about?"

"No one important." I forced a smile, hoping it would be enough to make him drop it.

He didn't. Instead, his gaze moved to the files scattered across my desk, then returned to me. "The board meeting starts in less than thirty minutes. Why haven't you prepared the documents?"

My stomach dropped. "I was going to...."

"Going to?" he cut me off. "That's your answer?"

I clenched my jaw. "I will have everything ready."

"You should have had everything ready before I had to come here and remind you." He paused, his expression becoming even harder. "Since you're clearly having trouble managing your priorities, twenty percent of your salary will be deducted as a penalty."

My mouth fell open. "Twenty percent?"

"You heard me."

I wanted to argue, but the look in his eyes stopped me. I swallowed my anger and grabbed the files. "Fine."

I spent the next few minutes rushing through the documents, arranging the financial reports, sales figures, and proposed strategies while Zack stood nearby watching me like a supervisor waiting for me to make another mistake. By the time I gathered everything, my heart was pounding, and I barely had time to breathe before he walked out.

"Bring the files and follow me."

I hurried after him, clutching the documents against my chest. When we entered the boardroom, several executives were already seated around the long glass table. I took the nearest seat, trying not to look as nervous as I felt.

The discussion started with declining sales in one of the company's major divisions. One director suggested cutting operational costs, while another argued that doing so would damage the company's expansion plans. Zack listened without interrupting, his fingers tapping lightly against the table.

"We don't have a revenue problem alone," Zack finally said. "We have a retention problem. If we're spending more to acquire customers than we're making from keeping them, cutting expenses won't solve the real issue."

One of the directors nodded. "Then what do you suggest?"

"Improve the customer retention rate, reduce unnecessary acquisition spending, and push the product launch we've been delaying. We don't need ten new projects. We need the three profitable ones executed properly."

I was beginning to relax when Zack suddenly turned toward me.

"Lola."

I straightened. "Yes, sir?"

"What's our projected revenue if the delayed product launches on schedule?"

My mind went blank for half a second. I quickly looked at the figures in front of me. "Based on the current projections, we could see an increase of approximately twelve percent over the next two quarters, assuming customer acquisition remains stable."

"And if acquisition drops by ten percent?"

I looked up at him. "Then we have to increase retention and focus on existing customers instead of spending aggressively on new ones."

"What would you cut?"

"Non-performing advertising campaigns first, then unnecessary administrative expenses. I wouldn't cut product development or customer support because that could create a bigger problem later."

A few board members exchanged approving looks. Zack, however, remained unreadable. He threw another question at me, then another, forcing me to defend every figure and recommendation until the meeting room suddenly felt ten degrees hotter. I answered as best as I could, refusing to let him see how badly my hands were shaking beneath the table.

Then the boardroom doors opened.

Mr. Thompson walked in.

The room immediately changed. Every board member stood almost at once, greeting him respectfully, but Zack remained seated, his expression hardening as he stared at his father.

"Please, sit," Mr. Thompson said, although everyone had already done so except Zack.

Nobody spoke for a moment. The tension between father and son was so obvious that I could almost feel it pressing against my skin.

"Zack," his father said, "we need to talk."

"You could have called before you waltz in the middle of a meeting"

"I've been calling."

"And I've been ignoring you because there is nothing to talk about"

Several board members exchanged uncomfortable glances before quietly gathering their documents. One by one, they excused themselves, leaving the room until only Zack, his father, and me remained.

I immediately wished I could disappear but Zack stopped me before I could move an inch.

Mr. Thompson turned toward his son. "Why do you refuse to see me at the Villa?"

"Because I don't want to."

"That's childish."

Zack gave a humorless laugh. "You want to talk about childish? Maybe worry about your stepson instead. He's studying abroad, isn't he? Let him fly over here and see you at the Villa. I'm sure he will appreciate the attention."

His father's face tightened. "Don't bring him into this."

"Why not? You brought him into my life."

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, wishing they would stop talking as if I wasn't there. The argument grew sharper with every sentence, and when I reached for my documents, my elbow accidentally knocked a glass from the table.

It crashed onto the floor.

The sound made both men turn toward me.

Mr. Thompson stared at me, his eyes narrowing as if he had only just noticed my presence. "Who is she?"

I immediately stood. "Sir, I'm.."

"Why is someone like her standing here with you?"

My face burned. I didn't even understand what he meant, but before I could defend myself, Zack stepped between us.

"Stay out of my business."

Mr. Thompson's expression changed. "Zack..."

"I said stay out of it."

Zack grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the door. I stumbled after him, still trying to understand what had just happened, but before we could leave, his father's voice stopped us.

"Wait."

Zack turned slowly.

Mr. Thompson's eyes moved from his son to me, his expression suddenly filled with suspicion.

"Is she the one?"

Zack's grip around my hand tightened.

His father stepped toward us.

Zack immediately moved in front of me, his voice dropping into a dangerous warning.

"Don't you dare touch her."

He pulled me closer, his eyes locked on his father's face.

"Don't touch her."