"So this is how it's actually done"
At this moment, Stephanie was standing before a transparent display wall when Ethan found her.
She had been studying a live schematic of the lower production floors, fingers folded behind her back, posture straight—too straight for someone who wasn't nervous.
"Enjoying the tour?" Ethan asked mildly as he approached.
Stephanie startled just a little, then exhaled. "Trying to memorize as much as I can before I embarrass myself."
Ethan smiled—not mockingly, but knowingly. "You won't get that luxury. Your briefing starts in two minutes."
Her heartbeat spiked.
"So soon?" she asked.
Ethan gestured down the corridor. "Executives don't like waiting. Especially when they don't approve of who they're waiting for."
That was all he needed to say.
Stephanie nodded once. "Let's go."
---
As soon as Ethan and Stephanie arrived at the briefing room, she instantly felt her heart skipped a beat.
The briefing room was massive.
Oval-shaped, layered seating, a floating holographic table at its center. Executives were already seated—men and women in tailored suits, faces carved from years of authority and quiet judgment as the rest sat behind them.
But seated among them while not being an executive—
Is Maria. Since there wasn't any executive in the department she is in along with no one being more capable than her in this department, well till Stephanie showed up.
She sat with one leg crossed, tablet resting on her knee, eyes sharp and unwelcoming. When Stephanie entered, Maria didn't look surprised.
She looked ready.
The murmurs died as Ethan escorted Stephanie forward.
"Everyone," Ethan said evenly, "this is Stephanie Rogers."
The silence that followed wasn't respectful.
It was evaluative.
Stephanie felt it immediately.
The weight of dozens of eyes.
The quiet question behind them.
'Is this really her?'
She took her seat anyway.
Riley was already there—seated slightly apart, arms crossed, expression unreadable. He didn't look at her when she sat down, but his presence was unmistakable. Grounding. Heavy.
And so, the briefing began.
At first, it was controlled.
Department heads presented data. Tactical logistics. Weapons deployment timelines. Supply vulnerabilities. Stephanie listened carefully, fingers steepled, absorbing everything.
Then the pressure started.
Maria leaned forward first as she suddenly spoke like she is really among the executives.
"Before we continue," she said calmly, "I believe it would be beneficial for us to understand Stephanie's approach."
Several heads turned.
Maria's tone was polite.
Her intent was not.
"How," Maria continued, "does someone with no prior experience inside Styles Industries plan to oversee tactical design without disrupting existing frameworks?"
Stephanie felt her throat tighten.
This wasn't a question.
It was a test.
She inhaled slowly.
"I don't plan to disrupt what already works," Stephanie said. "I plan to strengthen what fails under stress."
A murmur rippled through the room.
Maria tilted her head. "And how would you know where those failures are?"
Stephanie didn't look at her immediately.
Instead, she tapped her tablet.
The holographic table shifted.
A simulation appeared—one of Styles Industries' own tactical deployment models.
"Because I studied them," Stephanie said calmly. "Every archived failure case. Every recall. Every classified scenario where outcomes were… acceptable instead of optimal."
The room stilled.
She looked directly at Maria now.
"You design systems to function in ideal conditions," Stephanie continued. "I design them for collapse scenarios."
An executive scoffed lightly. "Collapse scenarios are hypothetical."
Stephanie nodded. "So were urban drone hijackings—until last year."
Silence.
She gestured, and the simulation changed—showing a rerouted command chain.
"This flaw," she said, "creates a three-second delay during manual override. In a battlefield environment, that delay costs lives."
The executive stiffened.
Maria's lips pressed together.
Stephanie didn't stop.
"And this," she added, shifting again, "creates a feedback loop vulnerability that can be exploited remotely. It hasn't happened yet because no one's tried it properly."
The pressure in the room flipped.
Executives leaned forward now.
Interest replaced skepticism.
Maria clenched her jaw.
"And what makes you qualified to identify these issues?" Maria asked sharply.
Stephanie hesitated.
Just for a breath.
Then she answered honestly.
"Because I've had to," she said. "Because I've lived in situations where systems failed people who trusted them. And because I don't have the luxury of assuming things will work."
That landed harder than any technical explanation.
The room fell silent again.
Then—
Riley spoke.
"She's right."
Every head turned.
Riley finally looked at Stephanie.
"I approved her appointment because she sees what you don't," he said flatly. "You build weapons. She builds survival."
Maria opened her mouth—
But Riley raised a hand before her voice could escape.
"That wasn't a debate," he said coldly.
The authority in his voice shut the room down instantly.
He turned back to the executives.
"She's prepared. She's capable. And she has my full backing. If anyone here has a problem with that—"
His gaze flicked briefly to Maria.
"—take it up with me."
No one did.
---
When the briefing ended, the tension didn't vanish—but it shifted.
Stephanie sat back slowly, hands trembling just a little under the table.
She had done it.
Ethan caught her eye and gave her the faintest nod.
Riley stood and left without another word.
Maria remained seated, staring at the empty space Stephanie had occupied moments ago.
Her expression wasn't mocking now.
It was calculating.
———
The moment Stephanie stepped out of the briefing room, she felt it.
Eyes.
They followed her through the corridor—some curious, some impressed, some resentful. Conversations paused as she passed. Tablets were lowered. Whispers didn't bother to hide themselves anymore.
'That's her.'
'She stood up to Maria.'
'Riley backed her.'
But despite all these, Stephanie kept her pace steady.
Shoulders back. Chin level.
No rushing. No hesitation.
If they were going to watch her, she would give them nothing to pick apart.
Ethan peeled off toward another corridor after a quiet, "Your office is ready. Take a moment."
She nodded, grateful despite not wondering why Ethan was there again.
---
But as soon as she got into her office, she was able observe the place more calmly.
Her office was… unexpected.
Minimalist. Clean lines. Glass walls with smart opacity. A wide desk already synced to her tablet. Tactical schematics quietly rotating on a side display as if the room itself was waiting for her.
This was hers now.
Stephanie closed the door and finally exhaled.
Her hands trembled.
She pressed them flat against the desk, grounding herself. 'You did it', she told herself. 'You're here.'
Just as her breathing began to slow—
Her tablet chimed.
Incoming Call – Riley Styles
Her heart nearly stopped.
"What—?" she muttered.
She stared at the screen as if it might bite her.
Riley never called anyone unnecessarily.
She answered. "Y-Yes?"
"Situation Room. Now."
The line cut.
Stephanie blinked.
"That's it?" she whispered.
No explanation. No context.
She swallowed, straightened her jacket, and left immediately.
---
The Situation Room was dimmer than the rest of the building.
Walls lined with massive tactical displays. Live feeds. Global markers. Classified overlays she didn't yet have clearance to access.
And at the center—
Riley.
He was standing with his back to her, hands clasped behind him, eyes fixed on a rotating map of supply routes. He didn't turn when she entered.
Stephanie froze.
For a moment, all she could hear was her heartbeat.
"Sir…?" she said cautiously.
Riley turned.
And for reasons she couldn't explain, the simple act of him facing her sent a jolt straight through her chest.
He studied her silently.
Not coldly.
Precisely.
"You handled yourself well," he said.
Stephanie stared. "I—what?"
"I don't compliment people unnecessarily," Riley continued. "So pay attention."
Her mouth opened. Closed.
"Yes, sir."
A faint shift crossed his expression. Not quite amusement—but close.
"You stayed calm under pressure," he said. "You didn't retaliate emotionally. You didn't shrink. You didn't overcompensate."
He walked past her slowly, toward the central console.
"That's rare."
Stephanie swallowed hard.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
Riley tapped a command. The display shifted—showing internal resistance projections. Executive sentiment analysis. Red indicators clustered around one name.
Maria.
"You're going to face resistance," Riley said flatly. "Not because you're incapable. But because you didn't arrive through the door they expected."
Stephanie nodded. "I figured."
"You'll be tested. Provoked. Undermined." He glanced at her. "Especially when I'm not around."
Her fingers curled slightly. "I can handle it."
"I know," he said without hesitation.
That startled her more than anything else.
Riley faced her fully now.
"You don't need to prove yourself to them," he continued. "Just don't let them corner you into reacting. People like that wait for cracks."
Stephanie met his gaze. "And what if they find one?"
Riley's voice lowered.
"Then I'll handle it."
The certainty in his tone sent warmth through her chest before she could stop it.
She frowned slightly, confused by the sensation.
"You don't have to—" she began.
"I know," Riley cut in. "But I will."
Silence stretched between them.
Not awkward.
Charged.
Riley seemed unaware of it.
"You're stepping into something bigger than you realize," he said. "This industry isn't forgiving. And it won't care why you're here."
He paused, then added, "But you belong here."
Stephanie felt her breath hitch.
Not you earned this.
Not you were chosen.
You belong here.
Something shifted inside her.
"I'll do my best," she said softly.
Riley studied her for a moment longer.
"I don't need your best," he said. "I need you steady."
Then, as if remembering himself, he turned back to the display.
"You're dismissed."
Just like that.
Stephanie stood there for a second, then nodded. "Yes, sir."
She turned to leave.
And as she reached the door—
"Stephanie."
She stopped.
Riley didn't turn.
"Today was the hardest day," he said. "It won't get easier. But you won't be alone."
Her chest tightened.
"I understand," she replied.
She left before she could say anything else.
---
Back in the corridor, Stephanie leaned briefly against the wall.
Her heart was racing.
'Why does he make it feel like that?' she wondered.
She didn't realize it yet—
But Riley Styles had just done something far more dangerous than protecting her position.
He had made her feel safe.
And that… unsettled her deeply.