I went on Instagram Live at 7:00 p.m. My typical comfort zone was the polished setting of television studios; therefore, I had never done a live broadcast on Instagram before. As the number of viewers increased to 1,200, 3,500, 7,000, my heart skipped a beat. After taking a deep breath, I hit "Go Live." With a voice steadier than I felt, I said, "Hello, everyone." "I appreciate you coming at such short notice. I wanted to respond to your inquiries straight out, without any spin or filter. I spent the following twenty minutes answering concerns about cybersecurity budget allocations, the schedule for third-party audits, employee data protection, and my next priorities. "What keeps you grounded through all this?" a spectator inquired. "My family, my values, and the knowledge that what I do affects people's lives," I said with a grin. I remain humble because of that duty. The conversation was replete with encouraging words and admiration as I ended it: * "Thank you for your transparen
I became aware that we had lost control of the story the morning I woke up to a trending alert on all my devices. Before I opened my eyes, my phone was humming with hundreds of alerts. For a brief period, I lay still, my pulse pounding, recalling Alexander's composed remarks from yesterday: * "Scrutiny does not scare us—it reinforces who we are." However, I was at ease when I looked at the computer. I grabbed my phone and slipped off the silk sheets as I sat up in bed. Every major news app displayed the opening headline in stark red text: "TURMOIL REID INDUSTRIES: WIFE-CEO UNDER FIRE" I gasped. A well-known business columnist's opinion article underneath it criticized me for "playing dress-up as a corporate savior." The language I used in yesterday's forum was examined in another piece that went viral on social media, seemingly demonstrating my preference for style over content. Anxiety crept into the pit of my stomach as I browsed. Memes ridiculing my transformation from bari
During breakfast, which consisted of fresh fruit and protein smoothies, I read through our press strategy plan, which Marta had painstakingly created overnight.Speaking engagements, interviews, and a schedule for organized social media updates were all scheduled. Every phrase seemed like a potential landmine, even though I appreciated how thoughtfully each sentence was written. "What if I make a mistake?" Tracing the edge of the glossy binder, I fretted. Alexander closed the binder by reaching across. "You won't. You have previously shown that you can manage difficulties far bigger than this. I was about to respond when my phone buzzed, alerting me to a message that my father had highlighted. My heart thumped. He never made a pointless demand; his tone was official. Sophia—requesting a conversation. Kindly set up a video call as soon as possible. I took a swallow. Dad and I had always been friendly from a distance—he only showed respect for me when I managed my own things well,
With floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the East River and walls covered in abstract art, Reid Tower's private dining area was quiet and serene. I inhaled deeply as I walked in, wearing a modest but sophisticated sheath dress and held my head high. A big mahogany table was surrounded by chairs, and as I walked in, I heard whispers of discussion. The CFO, Thomas, motioned for me to take a seat next to him. I smiled politely at him and sat down, seeing a number of people I knew well: the general counsel, the director of HR, the liaison assigned by my own father, and a few board members who had always doubted my marriage. Alexander nodded to me briefly from across the table before launching into his introductory statement on the forecasts for the quarter. Before I prepared my own speech, I measured the speed of his while I listened, my heart thumping a little. The chairman turned to me after his portion was over. "We are all excited to hear your thoughts on the recent events and how
My hair was wet and disheveled from the late-night shower, and I was still wearing the silk nightgown from yesterday as I perched on the edge of the couch.Beside me, Alexander had his tie wrapped precisely around his neck and his fitted gray suit dangling on the door. Despite his insistence on attending an early board meeting, he kissed my forehead and put a hot cup of coffee in my hand before leaving the bedroom. He smiled warmly and murmured, "Read them before the calls begin." I then unfurled the first headline, "Reid Industries Crisis Averted: CEO's Wife Exposes Cyber-Sabotage", while the city buzzed awake outside the glass. The page was dominated by a full-color photograph of me standing erect in the flickering corridor of the Franklin Building under the big typography.My heart pounded. I recognized myself in that picture, eyes calm, chin up, palm on desk, while security officers walked behind me, and I was pleased, even a bit taken aback by how collected I seemed. A ticker
As Alexander and I sat side by side in silence, still gasping from the adrenaline of the Franklin Building, the streetlamps flickered past the cab window like long, yellow tears.I clenched my fingers around his hand; I could still hear the sound of torn papers, the icy click of handcuffs on Ethan's wrists, and the echo of that fluorescent-lit chamber. Alexander brushed a strand of hair away from my face and said, "Everything's under control now." Even though his voice was low, I could feel it resonating inside of me. I took a deep breath. "I understand. However, I can not stop imagining what may have occurred. The image of Ethan's enraged gaze and his smirk as he flung my life upon that scarred desk made my chest clench. He gave my hand a squeeze. "You showed bravery. You confronted him directly. Never have I felt more proud. I gave a tremulous chuckle. It seems nearly unreal. I was a barista with a secret identity one minute, and now I am testifying in a case involving cyber-sab