They should have just fired her.
If this were any other employee, he wouldn't have hesitated. Fire her, make her face legal consequences, make an example of disloyalty, and move on. That was the Volkov way. Quick, clinical, and efficient. Business above emotion. Results above sentiment.
But Erin wasn't just any employee.
She was hired under his mother's direct authority — and that changed everything.
Xander ran a hand down his face, the weight of the empire pressing hard on his shoulders. The Volkovs didn't just value power or profit. They valued loyalty above all else. That was how they'd stayed on top of a world built on secrets, threats, and legacy. Betrayal wasn't just a loss. It was a crack in the foundation. One that had to be sealed — or destroyed.
And betrayal from someone his mother handpicked? That wasn't just a stain on the company — it was a personal disgrace to her.
He leaned back in his chair, staring out the tall office window, jaw clenched.
If this really reaches his mother, it's over for Erin.
No second chances. No appeals. No time to explain.
Just...gone.
Xander wasn't afraid of many things. He'd been raised to be ruthless, emotionless, calculated. But he knew better than anyone how far his mother would go to protect the empire — and how swift her wrath would fall on anyone who made her look like a fool.
He can still hear the icy tone in her voice from every time she targets a family — she exploits and suppress them and frame it as a result of their supposed betrayal. But the past few years of investigating what actually happened proved otherwise. That was just an excuse to exploit all their fortune.
What's worse was that, she had obliterated each act with a smile.
So if Erin really did this… there would be no saving her.
And yet, despite all logic, all evidence — he couldn't believe it. Not entirely. The Erin he had come to know — strong, clever, frustratingly defiant — she didn't need to stoop that low. Not for money. Not for validation. Not for anything.
She made him feel things he didn't have time to feel.
He hated that. But he hated the thought of losing her more.
He stood, adjusting his cuffs, gaze sharpening as he glanced toward the door.
Today was the partnership presentation. And thanks to her, they had something to present — even after everything. She had rebuilt the proposal from scratch in days. And whether she was guilty or not, one thing was certain:
She was still fighting.
For the company. For her place here. For herself.
Xander wasn't sure if he was protecting her from the board, from the scandal, or from his mother. Maybe all three.
But until he had proof — real proof — that she'd betrayed them…
He wasn't letting anyone touch her.
…
The conference room was filled to the brim—executives seated, advisors stiff-backed, shareholders watching with crossed arms. No one said a word, but their eyes said plenty.
The betrayal still lingered in the air. It clung to the walls like smoke after a fire—unwelcome and suffocating. Erin stood alone at the front of the room, behind the pristine glass table where Xander usually stood. Where deals were made. Where power was displayed.
Now all eyes were on her.
She could feel them—the suspicion, the doubt, the unspoken accusation. Every glance whispered the same thing: traitor.
And yet, she didn't flinch.
Xander sat near the far end of the table, arms folded, jaw tight. He hadn't said a word since the board voted to let her deliver. He had simply met her eyes across the room… and nodded. That was all she needed.
She clicked the remote.
The screen lit up behind her, unveiling the first slide of her new proposal.
"We were never here to replicate the past," she began, voice calm but firm. "The original project—yes, it was good. It was clean, efficient, and backed by months of research. But the truth is, it lacked risk. It lacked bite."
Her eyes scanned the room.
"And that's exactly why it was easy to steal."
Some of the board members straightened. They hadn't expected that.
"I'm not here to salvage the original proposal," she continued. "I'm here to present something better."
With a steady rhythm, she walked them through it.
The revised plan wasn't just bold—it was brilliant. It centered around expanding the scope of the partnership with the pharmaceutical firm. Instead of a single drug line, Erin proposed integrating their research division into a Volkov-funded accelerator lab—one that would run on shared patents and produce open-market licensing deals.
"The point isn't just profit. It's long-term ownership of innovation," she said. "They get capital and exposure. We get full distribution rights for the next five years—globally."
Charts moved. Data aligned. Projections soared.
Every sentence she uttered struck with precision—her voice unwavering, her timing perfect. No one interrupted. Even Lilianne, seated three chairs from Xander, didn't dare scoff.
When the final slide faded, silence fell.
Erin didn't speak again. She just stood there, tall and composed, daring anyone to question her.
Finally, one of the board members leaned forward. "This… wasn't in any of the files we reviewed."
"It wasn't," Erin said. "This was built from scratch after the breach."
A pause.
"How long did it take?"
"Three days," she replied. "I had help from no one."
"Not even the Vice President?" another asked, eyes flicking toward Cassian.
"No. He didn't even know I was working on it."
Xander's eyes hadn't left her once. His fingers tapped slowly against the armrest. Not nervously. Just... thoughtfully.
Lilianne crossed her legs tightly. "And how can we trust that this isn't another lie?"
Erin turned her gaze on her. "Because if it is, I would've run by now."
No one said anything.
Then a voice broke the silence—Xander's. Calm, cold, clear.
"We'll vote."
Murmurs passed. The board leaned in, deliberating quickly. The mood had shifted. Not entirely in her favor—but far from the noose she'd walked in with.
In less than five minutes, the verdict was out.
They were moving forward—with her proposal.
Erin exhaled slowly. She didn't smile. Not yet.
As everyone stood to leave, Xander remained seated. Just watching her.
And she—still composed—turned toward the exit, heart pounding, spine straight.
But just before she reached the door, he said it.
"You just saved your own name."
She paused. Looked back at him.
"I had no choice."
"You had plenty," he said. "You just chose the best one."
She didn't reply. Just nodded once—and left.
And as the door closed behind her, Xander leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable.
Because now, all that remained... was to uncover the one who tried to destroy her.
And he already had a name in mind.