The O’Neil boardroom had not felt this volatile in years.Voices overlapped, sharp and impatient, bouncing off the glass walls like sparks. Files were scattered across the long table. Someone had pulled a financial report up on the screen, red figures glaring like an accusation.“This is not a collapse,” Melissa snapped, standing with both palms pressed flat against the table. “It’s resistance. Markets resist change before they stabilize.”A senior executive scoffed openly. “Three institutional investors don’t ‘resist.’ They leave.”“They’re bluffing,” she fired back. “They always bluff.”Alex sat at the head of the table, fingers steepled, jaw clenched. He had barely spoken in the last twenty minutes, letting the argument burn itself out. But when Melissa laughed sharply and added, “Celine was never irreplaceable,” something in him snapped.“Enough.”The word cut through the room like glass.Melissa turned toward him, startled. “Alex—”“I said enough,” he repeated, rising to his
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