Chapter 4- I DON'T THINK I SHOULD SAY MY REASONS

Preview: I DON'T THINK I SHOULD SAY MY REASONS

"What do you mean?” I finally snapped my head up, glaring at her.

BRYAN~~

“What's happening here? The stock is in a free fall! Can someone explain to me why the numbers are plummeting?!” I slammed my fist heavily onto the conference table, my face turning red as I glared at my secretary while reviewing the latest market data.

“I'm sorry sir... we tried our best,” he stammered, looking terrified.

I stared back at the screen. The numbers glared right at me like a cruel joke. The stock was tanking, and I seemed completely powerless to do anything about it.

“Schedule an emergency meeting with all the departments in charge of the products right now,” I commanded. My mind reeled as I watched the charts drop further. Why the hell was this happening? All my hard work, slipping away.

“Copy that,” he said, rushing out of the office.

Inside the meeting hall, the atmosphere was suffocatingly tense.

“I need to know what's going on with our stock,” I said, completely agitated, pacing the floor. “The numbers are disastrous. What the hell is happening with the product?”

“We've been seeing a steady decline in sales, but we can't pinpoint the exact cause just yet,” Mr. Raymond, the marketing manager, explained nervously. “Maybe it's just the current market trend?”

“The market trend? That's not an excuse!” I snapped, my face flushing red. “What about our product strategy? Is it still even aligned with our corporate goals?”

“We've been actively working on some new features, but they're still in development,” Mr. Louis said, trying to calm the room down. “Maybe if we—”

“Maybe if we what? Maybe if we had done something sooner?” I cut him off sharply. “When exactly were you planning on rolling out these new features?”

“We were hoping to launch them next quarter, but—” the product manager started.

“Next quarter? That's way too late! We need something right now. What about the current product on the market? Is it still competitive?”

“We've actually been getting some complaints from users about bugs and performance issues,” the development lead admitted quietly. “Maybe if we—”

“Bugs and performance issues? Why the hell didn’t I know about this sooner? How are we addressing these issues right now?” I demanded, genuinely furious.

“We're working on patches and updates, but it's an ongoing process,” he replied.

“Ongoing process? I need results, not processes! Fix the problems, and fix them right now. I want a complete plan to turn this around, and I want it sitting on my desk within the hour.”

“Okay, sir,” they all chorused in unison, moving quickly.

Just then, my secretary walked over to my side. “Sir, your phone is ringing.”

“Switch it off,” I said, my tone almost rude.

“It's a text from Miss Mariel, sir.”

I frowned, taking the device. What could she possibly be texting about during a crisis?

“Hi Bryan, can we have dinner together? I'm missing you.”

I stared at the screen. She was just a massive disturbance to me right now.

“I'm busy,” I texted back coldly, before turning the phone completely off. I really didn't have time for meaningless chitchat.

After five grueling hours of brainstorming, I finally stood up at the head of the table.

“Umm, everyone let's stop here for now,” I said, feeling completely exhausted. “Take it as homework. Find a possible solution to this. Meeting dismissed.”

“Yes, sir,” they chorused, looking relieved as they filed out of the hall.

As I walked back toward my private office, I heard raised voices near the entrance.

“Ma'am, you really can't go in there, the Chairman is in a strict meeting—”

“I just want to see him!”

It was Mariel. What the hell was she here for now? I sighed heavily and signaled my secretary to just let her in.

“Mariel, what are you here for?” I asked, completely annoyed by her presence.

“I heard on the news about what your company is facing,” she said, stepping inside and looking at me with faux pity. “I thought I’d be of help, so I decided to come over.” Ughh, this was just so incredibly annoying.

“There is absolutely no need for that. I'll find a solution to it sooner or later.”

“You have always been so brave,” she murmured, stepping closer. She brushed her fingers lightly against my chin, making me instantly uncomfortable.

I stepped back, cutting off the touch. “Umm, Mariel, let David drive you home. I’ve got to go.”

“How about dinner first?” she pushed.

“I think I’ll pass. I need to go home and take a shower, I stink,” I said, flatly refusing.

“Oh, how about after that? I can wait for you,” she said, still stubbornly insisting.

“I’ve got to do some more work, I'm sorry,” I said coldly. How was I supposed to sit down and have a relaxed dinner with her when my company's stocks were completely tanking? I really needed to figure a way out of this mess.

Mariel spun around on her high heels, her frown deepening heavily as she stormed out of the office.

The next morning at 7:00 AM, I was already sitting at my desk. I was completely buried under a mountain of over 30 financial documents when the door clicked open.

“Frida, I told you I’m busy,” I muttered without looking up.

“Sir... Miss Melanie is outside,” she said softly.

I paused. Melanie? What was she doing here so early? Did she want to cancel our contract wedding because of the accidental kiss at the hotel yesterday? Honestly, she seemed a lot more innocuous than Mariel, who had barged in the day before.

“Let her in,” I said.

“Okay.”

I heard her light footsteps enter the room, but I still didn't raise my head, keeping my eyes locked onto the paperwork.

“Why are you here?” I asked, my voice flat, head still down.

“Sorry if I'm distracting you,” her quiet voice drifted across the desk.

“Maybe you should be,” I said, sounding a bit ruder than I intended.

“Oh. Well... I don't think I should say my reasons then.”

“What do you mean?” I finally snapped my head up, glaring at her.

“Maybe I’ll just distract you more. Those documents you have to check look really big.” She sounded surprisingly considerate, but her coyness only made me more curious. Why was she here? We had already agreed to get married on the assigned contract date. Why did she still feel the need to come see me face-to-face?

“Say your reasons. Maybe I can consider them,” I told her.

“Like I said, it would probably just cause you a lot of problems. So pardon me, I’ll take my leave.” She turned around, reaching for the exit.

I don't know what the hell came over me. The stress, the exhaustion, or maybe just pure curiosity—but I snapped. I stood up from my chair and went after her incredibly fast. She was just about to wind the door's knob when I caught up to her.

I slammed Melanie against the wall right beside the door. My breath was hot and ragged, my eyes locking onto hers with a fury that teetered right on the edge of pure desperation. Her back hit the plaster with a dull thud, and for a single heartbeat, the entire world went completely still. It felt charged, electric, like the terrifying pause right before a massive storm hits.

Then, the door behind me creaked. It happened too slowly for me to notice at first—until it suddenly burst inward, catching me completely off guard.

The heavy edge of the door shoved violently into my back, forcing me forward. Our bodies collided with way more force than either of us expected. My chest pressed hard against hers, our breath tangling together instantly. Her sharp gasp shot through the room like a spark in dry grass.

I completely froze.

Not out of fear—but because of the dizzying collision of adrenaline, fury, and something else entirely. Something way more dangerous.

Someone had just pushed that door open. And now, we definitely weren't alone.

“Sir, I...” Frida stammered from the doorway, her eyes wide as she took in the scene. She clearly completely misunderstood what we were doing. “I'm so sorry!”

She turned around and rushed out, slamming the door shut.

Only Melanie and I were left in the suffocatingly awkward atmosphere. Her face was bright red, completely flushed. She immediately turned her back to me, facing the wood of the door again to hide her expression.

“My dad wants to see you,” she whispered quickly.

Without even turning back to look at me, she turned the knob and walked straight out of the office.

I stood there, trying to process everything. Even I couldn't believe what had just happened.

Her dad wants to see me? What the hell for? Could it be that he’s already demanding money from me before the wedding even happens? Who knows.