Chapter 6 The Boardroom War

• The next morning, the atmosphere in Lancaster Tower was razor-sharp every polished surface seemed to gleam with judgment. Word of internal sabotage had not officially been shared, but Steve’s executive team was abuzz with whispers. One thing was clear: something was brewing, and it wasn’t business as usual.
• Sandra stood outside the executive boardroom, heels silent on the marbled floor, watching as men and women in designer suits filed in with practiced poise. She adjusted her blazer, every nerve alert. This was it the showdown Steve had hinted at. And she was going to witness it all.
• Steve’s voice came from behind her, low and intimate. “Once we walk in, you’re not my assistant. You’re Lancaster Global’s Director of Systems Strategy.”
• She looked at him, heart pounding. “You’re sure?”
• His eyes locked onto hers. “You earned it.”
• He pushed open the heavy door, and they stepped into the lion’s den together.
• The boardroom was massive, a sleek rectangle of glass, chrome, and old money. At the head sat Harold Drummond, flanked by allies who had once sworn loyalty to Steve’s late father. Sandra’s gaze swept the room, noting tight-lipped nods and cool glances. This wasn’t just a meeting—it was a test of dominance.
• Steve sat at the head of the table. Sandra took her place beside him, and the murmurs began.
• Harold cleared his throat. “Before we proceed with quarterly numbers, there’s a matter that demands clarity. Several shareholders are concerned with Lancaster Global’s strategic direction and with leadership… distractions.”
• “Distractions?” Steve asked coolly.
• Harold gestured subtly toward Sandra. “Your assistant’s unorthodox rise and her influence oversensitive data systems.”
• “She’s no longer an assistant,” Steve said, tone sharp. “She’s Director of Systems Strategy. And unless you’d prefer our logistics remain in the Stone Age, I suggest you recognize talent when you see it.”
• A woman in a gray suit a board member from London leaned in. “And you’re not romantically involved with your new director, I presume?”
• The air went still.
• Sandra’s spine straightened.
• Steve looked at them all. “What happens in my private life has nothing to do with this board unless it affects operations. Sandra Vega has improved operational efficiency by 17% in the last quarter alone.”
• Harold chuckled. “And the anonymous leaks and data breaches we’ve recently suffered? Also her doing?”
• Steve’s jaw tensed. “You’re suggesting Sandra is behind the breaches?”
• “Am I?” Harold replied. “Someone inside your network is.”
• Sandra’s fingers tightened around the pen in her hand. “I’ve already been working with our cybersecurity chief. One of the breaches was traced to a device registered under your assistant’s credentials, Harold.”
• The room turned.
• Steve raised an eyebrow.
• Harold’s mouth twitched. “That’s impossible.”
• “Unless your assistant has a habit of logging into secure systems on your behalf,” Sandra said evenly. “Careless.”
• Steve turned to the rest of the board. “You wanted answers. There they are.”
• The meeting dragged on with veiled threats, power plays, and fake civility. By the end, Steve and Sandra had held their ground—but it was clear lines had been drawn. Allies were scarce. Enemies, everywhere.
• As the board members trickled out, Steve pulled Sandra aside. “You didn’t have to take that risk.”
• “I wasn’t going to let them corner you without facts.”
• He stared at her. “You’re fearless. And smarter than all of them combined.”
• Sandra let out a breath. “But someone inside your company is leaking information. If it’s not Harold, then”
• “Then it’s someone else close,” he finished grimly. “I’m bringing in a private forensics team. Silent and off-books.”
• “Good,” she said. “Because I have a bad feeling this is just the beginning.”
• That night, Steve stood in the dim light of his penthouse study, staring out across the city. His fingers curled around a tumbler of whiskey, but his mind wasn’t on the liquor.
• It was on her.
• Sandra had held her own against wolves. She hadn’t blinked when accused. She’d protected him, when the room expected her to crumble.
• And yet… he could see the strain behind her eyes. The burden.
• He hated that she had to carry it because of him.
• A knock came at the door.
• He turned. “Come in.”
• Sandra entered quietly, wearing a soft, cream-colored blouse and navy pants, her hair pulled back. She looked exhausted.
• “I couldn’t sleep,” she said simply. “Neither could you.”
• He poured her a glass, offered it silently. She took it, their fingers brushing.
• “I thought boardroom politics would feel different,” she murmured, sipping. “More polished. Less like… war.”
• “It is war,” he said darkly. “Just in custom suits.”
• She walked to the window beside him, gazing out. “I don’t know what scares me more. That someone’s trying to destroy you from within… or that I care enough for it to terrify me.”
• He turned toward her.
• “I told myself not to feel this way,” she whispered. “That I’d keep it physical. Temporary. Just a powerful man, and a woman who liked danger.”
• His voice was rough. “And now?”
• Sandra looked up at him, her eyes burning. “Now I’m in too deep.”
• Steve’s breath caught.
• In two steps, he was in front of her. “I can’t protect you from all of this. I can barely protect myself. But if you want out—”
• “Don’t you dare,” she said, gripping his shirt. “Don’t you dare push me away to ‘keep me safe.’ I’m not a child. And I’m not walking away.”
• His arms wrapped around her. “Then stay. No more hiding. No more acting like we’re not more than just desire.”
• She nodded against his chest. “We’re something else. Something real.”
• They kissed, not like the first time wild and consuming but slow, deep, and filled with the weight of choices.
• But outside, in the shadows of the adjacent tower, a camera lens clicked softly.
• A man in a gray jacket lowered the device, smirking.
• “Got you, Lancaster.”