Frost International Tower — 9:55 AM
The boardroom on Frost International’s top floor looked like money always does when it’s trying to prove a point: glass walls, a skyline view of Manhattan, and not a single soft edge anywhere.
Right now, the air in it was thick enough to choke on.
Marcus sat off to one side on a white leather sofa.
Nobody looked at him.
Twelve board members, the CFO, and a handful of lawyers took their seats around the black table, all of them running on panic and ambition.
The Expo had gone to hell less than twelve hours ago, and everyone in the room could smell blood.
One of the older board members wouldn’t sit down.
Silver hair, red face, the kind of guy who’d been waiting years for a shot at the chair Emma was sitting in — Arthur.
For ten straight minutes, the table talked over itself — questions, blame, the same panic dressed up in different voices.
Arthur kept steering it back to one line: that this board had tolerated her long enough, and it was time to talk about who was really fit to run the company.
Emma’s hands stayed folded on the table the whole time.
Her eyes moved from face to face, slow, like she was reading something she’d already finished.
By the time Arthur hit his fourth pass at the same line, she was looking past him, out at the skyline.
When Arthur finally ran out of breath, the room went quiet, waiting for her to defend herself.
She didn’t.
“Are you all finished?” Emma asked instead.
Nobody answered.
“Good,” she said, standing.
“Then we can stop pretending this was ever about me. None of you have asked the one person in this building who actually knows what happened last night.”
She turned, walked past her own chair, and crossed to the sofa where Marcus was sitting.
He barely got upright before she took his face in one hand and kissed his cheek, slow, right in front of the entire board.
A couple of the older men looked away.
Arthur just stared.
“This is Marcus Cole.” She straightened up, one hand still on his shoulder.
“As of this morning, he’s my advisor. The only reason I’m standing in this room instead of a hospital bed is because of what he did last night.”
Down the table, chairs creaked.
Arthur’s mouth opened and closed twice before he gave up on whatever he’d been about to say.
Emma caught all of it, and made no effort to look like she minded.
She pulled Marcus up by the wrist and walked him around the table to the head of it — to her own chair — and pushed him down into it.
“Sit,” she said, in the tone of someone who’d already decided it wasn’t a request.
She came around behind the chair and put both hands on his shoulders.
“Go on,” she said, eyes back on the board.
“Tell them what’s happening. How it profits us.”
Then she leaned down, close enough that only he could hear it.
“Do well,” she murmured against his ear, “and there’s another one of those waiting for you when they’re gone.”
She straightened up and stepped back, folding her arms — leaving Marcus sitting in her chair with twelve board members, a CFO, and a room full of lawyers all waiting for him to talk.
Marcus took a second before he opened his mouth.
“Justin Hammer was arrested at two this morning. FBI, at his own house.” He let that sit.
“By the time markets open tomorrow, Hammer Industries isn’t a defense contractor anymore. Every contract they held with the DoD is void.”
Arthur found his voice first.
“And we’re just supposed to take your word for that?”
“Check your phone,” Marcus said, not bothering to raise his voice.
“It’s already on Bloomberg.”
A couple of them did, hands dipping under the table like they didn’t want to be seen doing it.
Marcus watched the phones light up around the table.
The panic in the room stalled out, replaced by quiet realization.
“Stark stopped making weapons years ago,” Marcus said, leaning back into Emma’s leather chair.
He looked straight at Arthur.
“And as of last night, Hammer is sitting in a federal cell. So tell me, Arthur. Who does the military buy from now?”
Arthur’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.
“The Pentagon has billions tied up in contracts and suddenly no one to build the tech,” Marcus said, his voice calm and steady.
“They need a secure, reliable replacement immediately. By tomorrow morning, they’ll announce we’re taking over Hammer’s accounts. Your stock isn’t crashing. It’s about to skyrocket.”
Down the table, the CFO let out a slow breath and picked his pen back up.
The anger in the room evaporated, replaced entirely by quiet, calculating greed.
She stepped forward, resting one hand on the back of Marcus’s seat.
“Unless anyone else has concerns about my leadership,” Emma said, her voice cool and sharp as she looked at Arthur, “I suggest you all go prepare for the busiest quarter in this company’s history.”
Arthur stood up, avoiding her eyes, and walked out.
The rest of the board quickly followed.
A minute later, the heavy glass doors clicked shut, leaving the room completely empty.
Marcus let out a long breath and slouched a little deeper into the oversized chair.
“Are they always that easy?” he asked.
A quiet moment passed before the sharp click of heels broke the silence.
Emma took her time walking around the table, eventually stopping next to the oversized chair to lean her hip against the edge.
“Only when you hand them the world,” she murmured.
Cool fingers brushed the collar of his jacket.
Leaning down, she let her eyes flutter shut as she closed the last few inches between them.
“Now… I believe I owe you a reward.”
Marcus didn’t lean in to meet her.
Instead, a single finger pressed lightly against her lips, stopping her dead in her tracks.
Emma froze.
Her eyes snapped open, widening just a fraction as she stared down at him.
The smooth, calculated smirk completely vanished from her face.
“What are you trying to do… Miss Emma?” his tone was completely casual.
Before a single word could leave her mouth, he kept going.
“I mean, if you’re trying to win me over just by using your face and body, that’s not gonna work.” He leaned back into the leather cushions, tilting his head.
“And by the way, how did I suddenly become your advisor? I haven’t even agreed to that yet.”
///
Author’s Note
Hey, next five chapters are already up on FicRoot: https://www.ficroot.com
I built the site myself because I got tired of scrolling through a hundred fics just to find one worth reading — and half of what’s out there is poorly translated garbage anyway.
It’s still pretty rough and I’m the only one working on it, so if something breaks or looks weird, let me know.
And if you actually like it, tell me that too — that kind of stuff keeps me going.
Thanks for reading this far.