Chapter 15: The Vote of No Confidence
Summary: The Ryuu Global board moves quickly, calling an emergency vote under the guise of restructuring. Their true aim? To push Kade out. Aria is invited to observe—not as a guest, but as a fallback. But when she steps into the room, she doesn't choose between them. She rewrites the rules.
Ryuu Global's boardroom was never designed for comfort.
It was designed for intimidation—floor-to-ceiling windows with sweeping views of Aurium's skyline, black stone table that reflected every face, and lighting so precise it cast everyone in unforgiving clarity.
Thirteen chairs.
Twelve filled.
Aria stepped in first.
Then Kade.
The room stopped.
Dorian glanced at his notes. Liyan folded her hands. Saul Tei didn't even blink.
"Mr. Ryuu," Liyan said crisply. "We appreciate your attendance."
Kade offered a nod that meant nothing.
Aria sat beside him. She wasn't supposed to.
She did anyway.
"This meeting was called under Article 7C," Saul said, opening his folder. "Emergency restructure clause. Triggered by board consensus that the current CEO has compromised his effectiveness."
Kade didn't react.
He simply watched.
"We've all seen the headlines," Dorian added. "The press cycles. The independent movements. The instability."
Aria smiled slightly. "You mean me."
"No one said—"
"Don't lie," she said. "You've spent weeks preparing to cut him. You just didn't think I'd show up with him."
Liyan cleared her throat. "As per clause 42, Mrs. Linh-Ryuu has observation rights during any board-triggered restructure vote due to her legal position as successor."
Kade finally spoke.
"And how many of you have already cast pre-votes?"
No one answered.
The screen at the far end of the room flickered to life.
Twelve board members.
Names.
Checkboxes.
Votes.
And one line still unconfirmed:
Acting Proxy — Aria Linh
Every head turned.
The system had registered her as eligible to vote.
"That's not accurate," Dorian said. "She wasn't granted a board proxy."
"No," Liyan said slowly. "But she was granted marital authority in the clause. If the system recognizes her, the vote stands."
Kade looked at Aria.
She didn't blink.
"Do I have a voice or not?" she asked.
Silence.
Then:
"You do," Saul said. "Whether you use it to confirm his removal—or prevent it—is entirely yours."
Aria stood.
Slowly. Calmly. No raised voice, no theatricality.
Just stillness—and the weight of intent.
Twelve sets of eyes locked on her.
Kade watched too, silent.
"Let me make something very clear," she began. "If I vote to keep Kade Ryuu in power, this meeting ends in noise and bad press. If I vote to replace him, the company fractures. Your stocks drop. Your investors panic. And I become a puppet CEO under a board that fears strength more than failure."
She turned.
Let them see her.
Truly see her.
"I'm not going to do either."
Dorian raised an eyebrow. "Then what exactly are you proposing?"
Aria walked to the head of the table.
"There's a third option. One your bylaws never anticipated, because you assumed power was a solo game."
She pressed her hand flat on the table.
"You want stability? Transparency? Leadership that both commands and connects? Then you'll authorize a structural split—effective immediately."
Saul frowned. "Split?"
"Co-CEO model," she said. "Two branches. Kade leads the international strategy and acquisitions arm—what he's always done best. I lead public interface, innovation, and domestic reform."
She paused.
"Equal power. Equal vote. Shared control. Shared risk."
Gasps weren't spoken—but they were felt.
Liyan spoke last.
"You'd bind yourself to him… permanently?"
"I already am," Aria said. "Now I just want it in writing."
Kade rose slowly from his seat.
He said nothing.
Just stared at her across the table—like she'd become something entirely new in front of him.
Liyan looked to Saul.
To Dorian.
One by one, heads nodded.
Not with excitement.
With reluctant respect.
Because power wasn't just a throne.
Sometimes it was a table you forced people to sit at.
Thirty minutes later, the vote passed.
Not for removal.
Not for war.
For something worse to old money ears:
progress.
In the elevator afterward, Kade said nothing for nearly a full floor.
Then:
"You saved me."
"No," Aria said. "I saved us. You just weren't ready to say the word yet."
He laughed once—soft, real.
"Co-CEOs?"
"It has a nice ring," she said. "You get your empire."
"And you?"
She looked at him.
"I get my name back—with interest."