Handling Crisis.

Adrian's POV

“How's it going, Gerald?” I asked, standing at the top floor of the executive suite in my company, watching the city below through the glass.

The sun had barely risen, but my PR and cybersecurity teams had been locked in the tech room since three in the morning.

“Every server, boss,” Gerald reported, stepping up behind me. He looked exhausted, but his voice was steady. “We've managed to deploy takedown measures, hit the hosting platforms with copyright orders, and wiped out every link leading to the video from social media. Anyone who tries to d******d that video right now will only get a broken link.”

“Good,” I said, adjusting the cuffs of my shirt. “Has Easton arrived?”

“He just entered the boardroom with the rest of the members,” Gerald replied, a hint of mockery in his tone. ‘He must feel so happy coming to tear you down and finally take over the board.”

I adjusted my tie and turned towards the door. “Let's go disappoint them.”

When I pushed open the doors of the boardroom, the temperature in the room instantly dropped.

Eleven board members sat around the long table, their faces dark with hostility. At the far end sat Easton Jett with his smug expression, his fingers were folded over a thick manila folder containing the vote to strip me of my executive powers, to strip me of my position as CEO for my company. A company I worked so hard day and night to build.

“You're late, Adrian,” Easton announced, his voice dripping with condescension as he leaned back in his leather chair. “Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. It must take time to pack up your office after ruining a billion-dollar legacy.”

Talking about ‘Billion-dollar legacy’ like he had any idea the amount of hardwork it took to set it up.

I didn't answer right away. I pulled out the head chair at the front of the table, sat down calmly, and rested my hands on the polished wood.

“Let's skip the dramatic speech, Easton,” I said, in a calm voice. “You called an emergency meeting. Speak.”

Easton stood up, tossing a printout of last night's news headlines to the center of the table. “You expect us to sit here while you drag this company into the mud? First, a massive stock leak that tanks our market value, and then you assault Milan Rojer in a public lounge like some raging teenager? The press is calling you an unstable tyrant. The stock dropped another eight percent following your irrational act.”

“Milan Rojer targeted my family,” I stated coldly, locking eyes with him. “I reacted as any man in my position would.”

“You’re not just any man. Might I add, you're not the first to have a family. People have handled worse situations more subtly. You’re the CEO of Kingsley Enterprises!” Easton slammed his palm on the table, his eyes bulging with rage. “Now, you make us believe you're a liability!”

He calmed a bit. “The board has reached a unanimous consensus. We are holding the vote right now to strip you of your CEO title and place the company under interim management.”

A low murmur of agreement rippled through the older board members. In their minds, they had me cornered.

I studied each face carefully, noting which ones were more than eager to carry out this coup.

A week ago, I could have sworn I had loyal boardmembers backing me. Now, the truth was glaring. I was more alone than I thought.

Without giving any hint to what I was thinking about, I slowly leaned back in my chair, pulling my mouth into a cold smirk.

“Before you call that vote, Easton,” I said smoothly, gesturing towards the table, ‘why don't you all pull out your phones and show the room this so-called 'viral video' you're cancelling me over?”

Easton frowned, a confused expression, playing across his ugly face. “Don't play games with me, Adrian. It’s everywhere. It has millions of views—”

“Check your phone,” I interrupted, with an icy tone.

Frowning, Easton pulled his phone out of his breast pocket. Around the table, the other ten board members reached for their devices, tapping their screens rapidly.

Ten seconds of suffocating silence filled the room.

Then, one by one, their faces began to drain of color.

“It's... it's gone,” one of the senior directors muttered, staring at his screen in disbelief. “The news articles are dead links. And all… all the video clips are erased.”

“The search engines, video sites, clips—wiped clean,” another whispered.

Easton’s thumbs flew across his screen, his jaw working as he kept searching and searching, unable to believe what was happening. I was sure all his search returned the same message: Content Unavailable.

“What did you do?” Easton hissed, his head snapping up to glare at me, his smug composure completely shattering.

“I handled it,” I said flatly, resting my forearms on the table as I leaned forward. “By nine o'clock, my PR team is releasing a press statement detailing a brief, private dispute that was wildly blown out of proportion by fake news outlets. The narrative is dead, Easton. The video doesn't exist.”

The board members looked at each other, their solidarity dissolving into murmurs. Without the video driving the so called crisis, their legal grounds to cancel me were completely void.

I stood up, towering over the table, placing both hands flat on the surface.

“I built this empire's current valuation, and I am the only one in this room capable of holding it together,” I growled, letting my glare sweep across every single person at the table until they looked away.

“The leaker will be caught by the end of the week. The stock will recover. But if any of you ever attempt another coup behind my back again…”

I paused, letting my gaze settle squarely on Easton Jett's pale face.

“...I won't just remove you from this board. I will personally buy out your shares and leave you with nothing.”

Easton opened his mouth to retort, but no sound came out. He slowly sank back into his chair, his knuckles white against his phone.

“Meeting adjourned,” I announced coldly.

Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked straight out of the boardroom, Gerald following close behind.

The door slammed shut, sealing my victory, but as I stepped into the elevator, my mind didn't linger on Easton or the board.

My thoughts immediately drifted back to the estate—and to Victoria, waiting back at home where I had locked her in.