It had been a week since the engagement debacle, and in that short time, Erica had wormed her way into the minds of nearly every executive at Velmonte Technologies. She was strategic— sweet on the surface but her words were calculated, seeded with poison . Today was her day to finally present her case in front of everyone.
Alexander arrived to pick Emily up as he had done each morning over the past week. But today, something was off. She wasn't her usual self—no small talk, no teasing remarks, not even a passive-aggressive jab. Just silence. He glanced at her as the car pulled away from the curb. Her fingers were tightly folded in her lap, and she hadn't even made a face about the stench lingering in the car.
The smell was undeniable—faint, metallic, but present. The remnants of what had transpired just hours ago.
At exactly 4:13 a.m., Alexander and Andrew had been ambushed by the Valmorra Gang—a desperate move by a group that should've known better. Alexander fought his way through the chaos with brutal precision, his tailored suit stained in blood by the end of it. But that wasn't the worst part.
Louis.
A rat within the company. He had leaked information to outsiders—he claimed it was unintentional, that he was threatened—but Alexander didn't entertain excuses. When they found him, Alexander grabbed him by the collar, eyes cold with disappointment. Louis, foolish to the end, raised his hand in defiance, then reached for a pocketknife.
The blade sliced across Alexander's hand—a deep, narrow gash. He didn't even flinch.
Before Louis could lunge again, Andrew fired. The shot was fast, loud, final. Blood splattered across the side of the car as Alexander still held him. They didn't have time to clean the scene. They were already late, and the private visit to the doctor only cut things tighter.
Emily had seen it all. From the shadows. She watched as they dragged Louis's body to the dumping ground, watched as the life left his eyes.
She got home at 5:48 a.m. and had barely over an hour to prepare for the day ahead. There was no time to recover from what she had witnessed. Today, she had to play her part—afraid, quiet, obedient. It wasn't a role she was used to, but it was necessary.
The ride to Velmonte Technologies was silent, wrapped in a kind of tension that clung to the car like the faint iron scent still trapped in its interior.
Emily sat in the backseat, posture straight, fingers lightly clasped over her handbag. Her eyes were fixed ahead, but not on anything in particular. Just… focused. Breathing through her mouth in subtle intervals, trying not to flinch at the faint sting in the air. It wasn't overwhelming, but it lingered — like a ghost of everything that happened a few hours ago.
Alexander sat beside her, one arm draped casually over the space between them, the other resting on his thigh. He didn't speak. He didn't need to. His eyes shifted toward her every few seconds, calm… observant. Studying her like she was a page he'd read before but suddenly didn't understand.
Usually, Emily would have said something by now — made a comment about how cold the car felt, or tapped the back of Andrew's seat to ask him to slow down, even when he wasn't speeding. But today, nothing.
Just silence.
Her lips were pressed in a thin line. She didn't look at Alexander once. Not out of fear. Out of control. If she met his eyes now, she wasn't sure what would show.
And still… he kept watching her.
The car pulled into the underground parking lot of Velmonte Technologies, tires whispering across the smooth concrete floor. The moment the engine shut off, Emily reached for the files beside her, flipping them open as if they held the only air she could breathe.
Alexander stepped out first. He didn't rush, didn't speak. He moved to her side and opened the door for her. A gesture so small, it could've meant nothing — but in this silence, it echoed loud.
She didn't look at him.
She stepped out, files still in her hand, eyes lowered but sharp. Not once did her lips part. She simply adjusted the papers in her grip and started walking toward the elevator, her heels clicking with practiced grace. She didn't wait. Didn't glance back. Not even once.
Alexander watched her go, one hand still holding the door handle, his face unreadable. He said nothing.
Andrew finally stepped out from the driver's seat, shutting the door behind him. He looked at Emily's retreating figure, then turned to Alexander, giving him a small pat on the back — not friendly, not casual. More like a quiet acknowledgment of everything that hadn't been said.
Then, wordlessly, he headed off to valet the car.
Alexander stood there for a moment longer, his eyes following Emily until the elevator doors swallowed her whole.
The elevator doors slid shut with a quiet hiss, sealing her in.
Emily let out a slow breath the moment she was alone. Her fingers, tight around the edges of the files, loosened just slightly. She wasn't shaking. Not visibly. But inside, her body buzzed with the echo of everything she had seen… and everything she couldn't unsee.
Louis' eyes. That moment when the knife flashed. The sound of the gun. The way Alexander didn't even move when it all happened — like death itself was a language he spoke fluently.
She closed her eyes briefly, letting the silence of the elevator wrap around her like a second skin.
Focus.
Today was going to be a long day.
Emily tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and let her expression harden in the reflection of the mirrored elevator walls. She'd seen the real Alexander Velmonte.
The elevator dinged. Floor 23.
Emily's mask slid back into place.
The boardroom doors clicked open.
Emily stepped inside, head held high, a file tucked against her chest. Every eye turned toward her. Conversations halted. The silence wasn't accidental—it was pointed.
She paused just inside the room, scanning the long glass table lined with executives and shareholders. Calm, unreadable. Her expression was still, but her eyes did all the talking. Not fear. Not shame. Control masked as uncertainty.
It was all part of the plan.
Then came the voice from behind.
"Miss Emily," Alexander said coolly, walking in without urgency. "Go and have your seat."
His sudden presence caught her off guard. She'd been so focused on everyone else that she hadn't noticed him enter. She blinked once, gave a slight nod, and made her way to her seat without a word.
Erica's gaze followed her like a blade across her skin. If looks could kill, Emily would've collapsed halfway through the walk. But she didn't falter. She took her seat gracefully and placed the file on the table, her face still carved with the perfect shade of helplessness.
Alexander claimed his seat at the head of the table. The executives sat poised, some glancing between Erica and Emily. The air was heavy with anticipation.
Just as Alexander signaled for Erica to begin, the boardroom doors opened again.
Everyone turned.
Mr. and Mrs. Velmonte entered.
There was a collective shift in the room—shoulders stiffening, posture straightening—though no one dared say anything. Except Lucian Velmonte.
He let out a loud, boisterous laugh as if he'd just walked into a family reunion. "What?" he chuckled. "You all look like we're ghosts!"
No one responded. No one was shocked. The man had always been known for dramatic entrances.
Lucian's grin widened. "Me and my lovely wife are shareholders too, remember? Just because we're no longer running this place doesn't mean we don't care about what happens to it."
Mrs. Velmonte's expression, however, held none of her husband's flair. Her eyes swept across the room before settling coldly on Emily. There was no attempt to hide the disgust in her gaze. Like she was staring at a stain on her favorite rug.
Emily didn't blink. She met the older woman's stare for half a second—just enough to acknowledge it—then looked away. She'd expected them. This wasn't a surprise.
At least now, she thought, this will be fun.
Mrs. Velmonte took her seat beside her husband, still fuming in silence.
Alexander glanced at both of them without expression, then turned back to the room. "Welcome," he said smoothly. "Can we begin now?"
He gestured toward Erica.
Erica took a slow step forward, her chin slightly raised as she addressed the room with a gracious smile — the kind that barely concealed the sharp edge behind it.
"I appreciate everyone being here today," she began, her voice light, almost sweet. "What I'm about to say comes from a place of concern — not just as a team lead, but as someone who deeply cares about the balance and structure of this company."
She let her eyes wander for a moment before settling her gaze, without hesitation, on Emily.
"We all know Miss Emily Wards is new. And no one is expecting her to be perfect — she's still learning, as we all did when we first came in. But… circumstances have shifted."
Erica folded her hands in front of her, her voice calm, measured, but slowly intensifying.
"She's no longer just an employee. She's the soon-to-be wife of the CEO." She gestured slightly toward Alexander without looking at him. "That changes things. Not because she asked for it — but because people will treat her differently. Whether she wants them to or not."
A few heads nodded subtly. Erica pressed on.
"Her presence, though it may not be her fault, is intimidating. I've already heard from a few members of staff who are afraid to correct her, or even speak freely around her. How do we maintain a healthy work environment when hierarchy becomes blurred by personal ties?"
A quiet murmur rose around the table. She could feel the ripple of doubt starting to spread.
"And what happens if she gets promoted?" Erica tilted her head slightly. "Even if it's because of hard work — will people believe it was earned? Or will whispers start? Will the company's credibility hold up when nepotism accusations begin to float?"
She gave a slight pause, letting the weight of her words hang.
"This isn't about doubting her skills. It's about protecting the structure we've worked hard to build. Roles must be respected. Boundaries must be clear."
Erica gave a polite nod and stepped back, still standing tall.
"That is all I have to say."
The boardroom buzzed with soft murmurs. Some executives exchanged uncertain glances. Others stared down at their notes, unsure how to react.
Alexander hadn't said a word yet.
Emily remained still.
But the air had shifted — and Erica knew it.
The murmurs grew louder — voices overlapping in a cloud of cautious agreement, quiet disbelief, and a few exchanged glances. That was, until Alexander leaned forward in his seat.
"Silence."
His voice wasn't raised, but it carried enough force to silence the room instantly. His expression remained unreadable — calm, cold, and calculating. The weight of his presence settled over the table like a blanket of ice.
He turned his gaze to Erica, not with anger or disapproval — just a slow, wordless gesture with two fingers.
"Sit," he said.
Erica obeyed without protest, keeping her head high as she walked back to her seat, every step laced with quiet triumph. She had lit the fire — now she only needed to watch it spread.
Alexander's eyes scanned the room. "Let's hear it," he said coolly. "If anyone has an opinion, now is the time to speak."
There was a brief silence. Then the head of Research Operations, Mr. Damian, cleared his throat.
"Well… with all due respect, sir," he began, nervously adjusting his glasses, "I believe Erica raised a valid concern. We've all seen how dedicated Miss Emily is. She's sharp, quick to learn — but the reality is… her relationship with you does create a certain tension."
Another executive nodded. "Yes. People are second-guessing themselves when they interact with her. They hesitate to correct her even on simple things — not because of anything she's done, but because they're afraid of how it might be perceived. It creates an imbalance."
"I've even noticed a few people avoiding collaborative tasks with her altogether," said one of the senior analysts. "She's efficient — no doubt — but fear and respect are starting to blur."
Another woman, an older executive seated further down the table, chimed in. "If she stays in her position and keeps rising, even if by merit… there will always be that shadow. People won't speak freely around her. They'll gossip. And eventually, they'll resent her."
Several others murmured in agreement.
The room settled into a heavy silence once again.
Everyone had spoken as though Emily wasn't sitting right there — and she hadn't moved an inch. Her face was composed, her expression unreadable, but her mind was sharp and running.
Alexander remained quiet, his fingers tapping slowly against the armrest.
Alexander's gaze shifted to Emily. Still calm. Still unreadable.
"Speak," he said, his voice firm but without emotion.
Emily stood up, every movement measured. The helpless look still painted across her face — not out of fear, but strategy. She walked slowly to the front of the room, all eyes following her. Just as she reached the center, Mrs. Velmonte released a soft but deliberately audible sigh. It wasn't dramatic — just enough to be noticed.
And it was.
Several heads turned subtly in her direction. Erica didn't need more than that. The message was clear — the Queen herself wasn't impressed with the soon-to-be daughter-in-law. A smirk flickered across Erica's lips for half a second. She would use that.
Emily faced the room and began, her voice composed but honest.
"I understand the concerns. I do. And I appreciate everyone who has spoken their mind today," she said, her eyes moving slowly from one executive to another. "But I can assure you all — I will make myself as approachable and professional as possible."
She took a breath.
"Just three weeks ago, I was only an employee here. If it weren't for the media, for a situation I didn't plan or anticipate… most of you wouldn't even be having this discussion right now."
She paused to adjust her skirt lightly. A small, instinctive move — but it didn't go unnoticed.
Alexander's eyes followed the motion for a second too long, his mind catching itself as it wandered. Her figure — confident, poised — drew his attention in ways he wasn't proud of. But he wasn't the only one. He noticed a few other male executives letting their eyes linger where they shouldn't.
His jaw clenched.
Emily continued, turning now to Erica directly.
"Miss Erica… you're the daughter of a renowned businessman, Mr. Desmond Halverson, if I recall correctly. Still, you joined this company and, in the last five years, you've been promoted three times."
She tilted her head, her voice still polite, but the edge behind it sharp enough to draw blood.
"Quite unusual, if you ask me."
The room was still.
"As far as I know, the Halversons and the Velmontes are nearly equals in business standing. So… how is it that you think you're not intimidating to the people who work here?"
Emily faced the room again. Erica's expression was beginning to unravel — the forced calm replaced by seething tension just behind her eyes.
"If our team is as committed to this company's growth as I believe they are," Emily continued, "then they'll voice concerns if my performance ever falls short. Not because of who I'm with, but because they care about this company."
She turned slightly to Alexander now, her eyes holding his.
"This is my dream. To be a great researcher. That dream doesn't disappear just because of my relationship with Mr. Alexander."
Before she could continue, Mrs. Velmonte rose from her seat.
"Thank you, Emily," she said, her tone curt, her smile thin. "But it doesn't change the fact that you're my Alexander's fiancée. And you work under him… in a very lower sector."
The room tensed again. That wasn't just a statement — it was a knife, disguised as civility.
Emily slowly looked toward her. The helpless look didn't leave her face — but behind her eyes, fire had started to burn.
Emily turned toward Mrs. Velmonte, still calm, still carrying that quiet grace — but her voice carried just enough weight to command the room's attention.
"I understand your concerns, ma'am," she began, her tone respectful, "and I'm aware that my position under Mr. Alexander, in your eyes, might appear… inappropriate."
A slight pause. Just enough for her words to sink in.
"But I didn't ask for special treatment. I didn't come into this company expecting to be handed anything because of who I'm with. I came here like everyone else — through the interview, through the training, through the probation."
Her voice steadied, growing firmer but never confrontational.
"I've worked in silence. I've stayed in late nights. I've met every deadline handed to me. And when the engagement news broke, I didn't move to another department, I didn't hide, and I didn't ask for favors. I stayed. Because I believed I could still earn my place — the right way."
She looked directly into Mrs. Velmonte's eyes now, unflinching.
"You mentioned I work in a much lower sector," she said with a faint smile. "But every sector here matters. Every lab, every team, every researcher. That's what makes Velmonte Technologies what it is. If my presence undermines that, then I've failed. But if my work proves otherwise, then I believe I still have something valuable to offer."
A silence swept the room. The kind that made people shift in their seats.
Emily finally lowered her gaze and took a small step back.
"I'm not asking for approval," she added gently. "Just a chance to be judged fairly."