Lucian

The conference room at Cross Media Entertainment had never felt smaller. Twelve board members sat around the polished mahogany table, their faces set with the grim determination of executioners. At the head of the table, Harrison Webb shuffled through papers like a judge preparing to read a verdict.

"Before we begin the vote," Webb said, his voice carrying the weight of five years of professional relationship, "I want to give you one last chance to reconsider, Lucian. End the relationship. Issue a public statement. We can spin this as a temporary lapse in judgment."

I looked around the table at people I'd once considered allies. Some avoided my eyes. Others stared back with cold calculation. A few, like Morrison, actually looked disappointed that I'd forced their hand.

"No," I said simply.

"Then we proceed with the vote." Webb's expression didn't change, but I caught the flicker of something, regret, maybe, in his eyes. "All in favor of removing Lucian Cross as CEO of Cross Media Entertainment?"

Hands went up around the table. One by one, five years of loyalty crumbled. Webb. Hayes. Morrison. Clark. Peterson. Williams. Chen.

Seven hands. Exactly the majority they needed.

"The motion carries," Webb announced. "Lucian Cross is hereby removed as Chief Executive Officer of Cross Media Entertainment, effective immediately."

The room fell silent. I'd expected to feel rage, devastation, the crushing weight of professional failure. Instead, I felt something I hadn't experienced in years, freedom.

"Congratulations," I said, standing up. "You've just made the biggest mistake in this company's history."

"Lucian," Webb began, but I held up a hand.

"No, let me finish. You want to know what I think? I think you're all cowards. I think you're so terrified of a little bad press that you'd rather destroy everything we've built than stand by the principles that got us here."

I walked to the window, looking out at the city that had been my kingdom for fifteen years. "I built this company on the belief that we could create something better than the corporate machine that chews people up and spits them out. I believed we could be a place where talent mattered more than politics, where loyalty flowed both ways, where people were valued as human beings, not just profit generators."

"You're being dramatic," Morrison said. "This is just business."

"No, this is personal. This is about a group of people who forgot that corporations are made of human beings, not just stock prices." I turned back to face them. "And you know what? I'm grateful. Because you've just reminded me why I started this company in the first place."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Webb asked.

I smiled, and for the first time in twenty-four hours, it was genuine. "It means you haven't just fired me. You've freed me."

Marcus appeared in the doorway, right on schedule. "Sir? They're ready for you."

"Ready for what?" Hayes demanded.

"The press conference."

The blood drained from Webb's face. "What press conference?"

"The one where I tell my side of the story. Where I explain to the world exactly what kind of company Cross Media Entertainment really is. Where I make it clear that I wasn't fired for poor performance or ethical violations, but for the crime of falling in love."

"You can't do that," Chen said, panic creeping into his voice. "You signed a non-disclosure agreement."

"I signed an NDA about proprietary business information. Nothing in that agreement prevents me from discussing my own personal relationships or the circumstances of my termination."

"The board will sue you," Webb threatened.

"For what? Telling the truth?" I laughed. "Good luck with that. Especially when the media finds out that the board's primary concern wasn't the company's reputation, but the fact that I refused to fire my girlfriend to appease some investors."

"You're making a mistake," Morrison said. "This will destroy you."

"No," I said, straightening my tie. "This will destroy you. Because while you're busy trying to save face, I'm going to be building something better. Something that doesn't sacrifice people for profit margins."

I walked towards the door, then paused. "Oh, and gentlemen? You might want to check your phones. I believe several of our biggest clients are about to call."

Webb grabbed his phone, his face going white as he read the screen. "The Hartwell Group just issued a statement. They're... they're standing by you."

"Interesting. I wonder what else you'll find."

The truth was, I'd spent the entire night making calls. Not to beg for my job back, but to remind people of something the board had forgotten, business is about relationships. And after five years of building those relationships, of treating clients as partners rather than revenue streams, of actually caring about the people I worked with, I'd earned something more valuable than stock options.

I'd earned loyalty.

"This isn't over," Webb said as I reached the door.

"You're right. It's not." I turned back one last time. "But it's not going to end the way you think."

The press conference was held in the lobby of Cross Media Entertainment, a deliberate choice that would force the board to watch from their windows as I controlled the narrative for the first time in this entire debacle.

Twenty reporters packed the space, cameras rolling, notebooks ready. I could see the board members gathered at the windows of the conference room, their faces grim.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I began, my voice carrying clearly through the lobby, "I want to address the rumors and speculation that have been circulating about my personal life and its impact on Cross Media Entertainment."

The room fell silent.

"This morning, I was removed as CEO of the company I founded five years ago. The board cited a loss of confidence in my leadership, but I want to be clear about what that really means."

I paused, meeting the eyes of every reporter in the room.

"I was fired for falling in love. I was fired for refusing to end a relationship with a brilliant, talented woman who has never done anything but support me and this company. I was fired for choosing love over profit margins."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"Lexi Carter is not the villain in this story. She's a journalist who has spent her career fighting for truth and justice. She's someone who makes me want to be a better person, a better leader, a better man. And if loving her is a crime, then I'm guilty as charged."

A reporter raised her hand. "What about the impact on the company's stock price?"

"What about it? Stock prices fluctuate. Markets are volatile. But the values that built this company, the relationships that sustain it, the people who make it work, those are permanent. And any board that can't see the difference between temporary market turbulence and fundamental value doesn't deserve to lead."

Another reporter: "Are you planning to start a competing company?"

I smiled. "I'm planning to build something better. Something that remembers that businesses are made of people, not just numbers on a balance sheet."

"Will Lexi Carter be involved in this new venture?"

"If she'll have me. Because I've learned something important over the past few days. Success without love is just expensive loneliness. And I'd rather be broke with her than rich without her."

The questions continued for another twenty minutes, but I could see the story forming in real-time. By evening, the narrative would be set: not as a cautionary tale about mixing business with pleasure, but as a love story about a man who chose his heart over his career.

As the press conference ended and the reporters filed out, I looked up at the conference room windows. The board members were gone, probably scrambling to do damage control.

But it was too late for that. The story was already written, and for the first time in this entire mess, I was the one holding the pen.

Marcus appeared at my elbow. "Sir? The car is ready."

"Where are we going?"

"To get the girl, sir. Because that's what heroes do at the end of the story."

I clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. "Marcus, you're absolutely right. Let's go get my girl.”