CHAPTER 8

The room stayed silent after Robert's question. "What the hell have you done?"

I couldn't move. Robert stood at the end of the boardroom table, his face hard with anger. Adrian remained beside me, completely still. For a moment, I wondered if he was going to answer.

Then he did. "I'm dealing with the situation."

Robert's eyes narrowed. "By dragging this woman into the middle of a scandal?"

My stomach tightened. I knew he was talking about me, but I refused to look down. I kept my eyes forward. I kept my spine straight.

Adrian's voice remained calm. "She didn't create the scandal."

"I don't care who created it."

Robert slammed his palm against the table. The sound echoed through the room. Several directors flinched.

"I care about what happens to this company."

His gaze moved to me, deliberate and cold. "And they're seeing an employee at the center of it."

I swallowed hard.

Adrian stepped forward. "Don't speak about her like that."

Robert's expression changed. There was something almost like amusement in it now. "Like what?"

"Like she's the problem."

Robert gave a humorless laugh. "She is not the problem?"

"No."

"Then what is?"

"The person who fabricated the photograph."

Robert's patience snapped. "And while you hunt for that person, what happens to Vance Corp? What happens to our investors? What happens to the market perception of this company?"

Adrian didn't answer immediately.

Robert turned toward the directors. His voice took on the tone of someone who had spent decades wielding power, someone used to being obeyed. "Markets don't care about feelings. Investors don't care about explanations. They care about stability. They care about predictability. They care about knowing that their money is in safe hands."

I felt heat rise into my face. I had heard enough. This was becoming unbearable.

"I can resign."

Adrian's head snapped toward me immediately. "No."

I looked at him. I needed him to understand. "This is becoming bigger than me. If my position is creating a problem for the company, I'll step away."

Adrian's voice became colder, sharper. "You're not stepping away because someone lied about you."

I stared at him. Something about the way he said it—the absolute certainty in his voice, the refusal to even consider it—made my chest ache.

Robert's patience seemed to disappear entirely. "Adrian."

His son turned. His eyes were still on me for just a moment before he looked at his father.

"Send her away."

The words landed heavily. I looked at Robert. He didn't blink. He didn't hesitate. He simply stood there, waiting for his son to comply.

"Remove her from the company," Robert continued. "Distance yourself from her. Let this scandal die on its own."

Adrian's expression hardened. "No."

Robert stared at him as though his son had just spoken in a language he didn't understand. "You're not in a position to refuse."

"I am the CEO."

"And I'm the chairman."

The silence that followed felt suffocating. It pressed down on the room like a physical weight.

Robert stepped closer to his son. His voice dropped, became almost conversational. Which somehow made it more dangerous. "You think this company belongs to you because I gave you the title?"

Adrian didn't respond. He simply waited.

"I built this company before you were old enough to understand what it meant," Robert continued. "I built it from nothing. I fought for every contract. Every partnership. Every success. And I gave it to you."

"I know."

"Then act like it."

Adrian's jaw tightened. I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled slightly at his sides.

Robert pointed directly at me. His hand was steady. His gaze was ice. "She leaves."

My heart dropped. I opened my mouth, but Adrian spoke first. "No."

Robert's face darkened. The color rose up his neck. "You're making a mistake."

"Maybe."

"You don't understand what you're risking."

Adrian's voice remained calm. "I understand exactly what I'm risking."

Robert looked at him for several seconds. His chest rose and fell. I could see him breathing, could see him controlling something inside himself that wanted to explode.

Then his voice lowered. It became something colder. Something more dangerous than anger.

"If you refuse to send her away, I will cut you off."

The room went completely still. The directors stopped moving. The assistants in the back stopped typing. Even the ambient sound of the city outside seemed to fade away.

I looked at Adrian. He didn't move. He didn't flinch. He didn't even change his breathing.

Robert continued, his voice precise. "No access to the family accounts. No financial support. No private resources. No access to the trust funds. I'll freeze anything and everything that falls under my control. Everything."

I felt my stomach twist. This wasn't just a threat against Adrian's position. This was personal. Robert knew exactly where to hurt him. He knew exactly what Adrian had built his life on.

"Dad," Adrian said quietly.

"Don't."

Robert's voice was sharp, cutting. "You have always believed you could have everything. The company. Your independence. Your choices. Your autonomy."

He glanced at me, his eyes cold. "But every choice has a price. Every single one."

I couldn't stay silent anymore. "This isn't fair."

Robert looked at me. For a moment, I thought he might ignore me entirely. Instead, he spoke. "You're right."

His answer surprised me.

"This has nothing to do with fairness," he said. "This is about business. This is about survival."

He turned back to Adrian. "Send her away, and this ends. Today. Now. This conversation is over, and we move forward."

I looked at Adrian. For the first time since we'd met, I saw something flicker behind his controlled expression. Not fear. Something else. Anger. Raw, dangerous anger.

I shook my head slightly. "Adrian, you don't have to do this."

His eyes found mine. "I know."

"Then don't let him destroy everything you've built."

"I won't."

Robert scoffed. The sound was harsh, contemptuous. "You're willing to lose your own family over her?"

Adrian didn't answer immediately. The silence stretched. I could barely breathe.

I didn't want him to choose me. Not like this. Not because his father had forced him into a corner. Not because he felt obligated.

I whispered, "You should think about what you're doing."

Adrian looked at me. His expression was completely certain. "I have."

Robert waited. I could see his hands clenching and unclenching. I could see him preparing for whatever came next.

Adrian turned toward his father. His voice was steady. "You want me to send her away?"

"Yes."

"You want me to pretend she's the problem?"

"Yes."

"You want me to protect the company by sacrificing her?"

Robert's expression didn't change. "Yes."

Adrian nodded slowly. Then he said the words I never expected to hear.

"Then cut me off."

My heart stopped. I felt it stop. The entire world seemed to stop.

Robert stared at him. Even the directors looked stunned. Their pens stopped moving. Their eyes widened.

Adrian didn't take his eyes off his father. His voice didn't waver. "If that's the price of keeping control of my own life, pay it."

Robert's face went strangely still. Like he was processing something. Like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

"Adrian," I whispered.

He didn't look at me. His entire focus was on his father.

Robert took one slow step toward his son. His voice, when he spoke, was almost frighteningly calm. "You'll regret that."

Adrian's expression didn't change. "I'll take my chances."

Robert's eyes hardened into something that looked almost like hate. "No."

He stepped closer. "You'll regret that more than you know. More than you can possibly imagine."

Then he turned and walked toward the door. His movements were deliberate. Controlled. He didn't storm out. He simply left, and somehow that made it worse.

I watched him leave. The doors closed behind him with a soft, final sound.

Nobody spoke. The entire boardroom remained frozen in the aftermath of what had just happened.

I finally looked at Adrian. He was still staring at the closed doors. His expression was unreadable. His jaw was clenched.

"Adrian," I whispered.

He didn't answer. He didn't acknowledge me. He just stood there, staring at nothing.

And somehow, the silence felt more dangerous than Robert's anger. It felt like the moment right before everything changed. Before everything fell apart.