Boardroom Blood

The glass doors of the Blackwell & Co. boardroom loomed ahead like gates of a battlefield.

It felt as if a battle is going to began.

But Isla Wilde didn’t hesitate.

Her heels clicked against the marble floors, steady, sharp, and unapologetic. Every eye in the hallway followed her like a storm cloud had just passed through. She was dressed in tailored navy blue today, the color of ice and midnight power, with a diamond pin fastening her silk blouse at the neck.

The receptionist’s voice trembled slightly. “Ms. Wilde, they’re waiting for you.”

Of course they were.

She pushed the doors open herself. She didn't have anyone with her. No escort. She didn’t need one.

Inside, the long conference table was surrounded by high-backed leather chairs. Every executive was seated except one.

Lucian Blackwell stood at the far end, the cityscape sprawling behind him in the tall glass windows. Sunlight lit him up like something out of fairytale. His broad-shouldered, dark-suited, cold-eyed.

For a moment, silence filled the room

And then a voice hung heavy in the whole room.

“You’re ten minutes late,” Lucian said, voice low and laced with steel.

Isla smiled as she took her seat at the opposite end. “I gave you six years. I figured ten minutes was generous of me.”

A few board members shifted uncomfortably.

Lucian’s jaw twitched, but he said nothing. His gaze held hers across the table, fierce and unreadable. That same damn intensity. That same face she used to kiss with closed eyes and reckless faith.

“I assume everyone’s read the press release,” Isla continued, placing a leather folder on the table. “Elan Vogue Milan is expanding into the U.S. market. I’m proposing a merger that will consolidate fashion, lifestyle, and investment branches under a new global model, co-chaired by Blackwell & Co. and Elan.”

“Proposing?” Lucian said slowly, sliding into his chair. “You announced it on live television.”

“That was the invitation. This…” she slid the folder to the center, “...is the deal.”

Lucian reached for the folder without looking at it. “And what if I decline?”

“Then I make a counter-offer to the board.” Her tone never wavered. “And I go public with what Claire did. What you allowed to be done. I remember every damn thing.”

Now that got his attention.

The executives flinched, some exchanging glances. Claire Blackwell, the elusive matriarch of the company, was never mentioned openly.

Isla just had mentioned a storm.

Lucian’s expression shifted, the muscles in his face tightening with something dangerous. “You’re walking in a fine line, Isla.”

“No, Lucian. I walked the line six years ago,” Isla said. “Now I draw it.”

A thick silence settled again. Lucian finally opened the folder. His eyes scanned the documents, the charts, projections, and clauses. Her signature.

She'd done her homework. And she'd done it very brilliantly.

Behind her calm face, Isla’s heart thudded. Being here, across from him, in this room, it was more than business.

It was war and memory and grief dressed in silk.

The moment finally cracked as the past resurfaced in front of her eyes.

Flashback.

They were younger, reckless, filled with excitement. Drunk on champagne and lust and the thrill of being newly married. Isla stood barefoot in their honeymoon suite, her hair loose around her shoulders, Lucian pulling her into his arms like a man starved for his woman.

“Say it again,” he whispered against her lips huskily.

“That I love you?” she teased with mischief filling her eyes.

“No.” His eyes were fierce. “Say that you're mine.”

“I’m yours,” she said, laughing as he lifted her into his arms. “Forever.”

And with that both of them entangled themselves into a wild dance of pleasure and passion.

That night, forever tasted like heat and laughter and promises that hadn’t yet been broken.

Present.

Now, across the boardroom table, that same man was staring at her like she was a stranger.

“I’m not here to play games, Lucian,” Isla said, voice flat. “This is your one chance to meet me as an equal. Not as the girl you left in a hospital bed all alone, not as the wife you silenced for the sake of your so-called appearances.”

“You think I don’t regret that day?” Lucian said, his voice too quiet. “You think I didn’t-”

“Regret?” Isla cut in. “You let your mother speak for you. You let her sign over my treatments. And you…you never came back. You forgot me, you ruined me.”

There it was. The wound between them laid bare, raw and breathless.

Lucian stood abruptly. “Everyone. Give us the room.”

A pause. Then the executives rose and filed out silently, none daring to meet either of their eyes.

When the doors shut, Isla stood too.

Now it was just them.

“I didn’t know what Claire was doing,” Lucian said first, his voice tight. “I didn’t sign on anything.”

“But you let her,” Isla snapped. “You let her mingle poison into everything we once were . You let her rob me of my child ... .and you did nothing.”

His face twisted in agony. “You think I didn’t suffer too?”

“No,” Isla said, eyes glittering. “I think you suffered conveniently. And Privately. But With no consequence.”

Lucian was breathing harder now, like each word hit a nerve. “When I came back, You were already gone.”

“I was grieving. All Alone.”

They stood inches apart now, tension radiating like heat. Years of pain pressed between them.

“You don’t get to rewrite this,” Isla said. “You don’t get to pretend we were just a tragic story, a tragedy.”

“I never stopped–” Lucian cut himself off.

She stepped back.

“Don’t say it,” Isla said, voice brittle. “Whatever you think you still feel, it doesn’t matter. What matters is this merger. You sign it. You sit on the board. But you can't control me anymore.”

Lucian’s eyes searched hers. “Why did you come back?”

Isla’s smile was like ice. “Because I built an empire, Lucian. One you underestimated. And now I’m here to crown it, in your own city, with your name beneath mine.”

Lucian stepped closer, almost against her now. “You’ve changed.”

“I had to. You killed the woman I once was.”

His breath hitched, just slightly.

She gathered her folder, turned toward the door…

And paused.

Without looking back, she said it:

“You owe me this, Lucian. You owe me more than you know.”

Then she walked out, leaving behind the scent of power and heartbreak.

Lucian stood frozen in place.

For the first time in years, he had no control. And it terrified him more than anything ever will.

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