How could someone who had seemed so calm, so genuine, tear my world apart?
She exhaled shakily, forcing the thought aside. No. I have to keep it together.
She was the pillar of her family, and the stability of this company, perhaps even a portion of the nation's economy, rested on her strength.
With one final breath, she rose, ready to fight.
For the first time ever, the walk to the boardroom felt too short.
As she passed through the hallway, she caught fragments of hushed conversations from employees. Each whisper carried worry… but also something that surprised her, respect. Despite everything, their faith in her had not completely broken.
It steeled her resolve.
Thousands of families depended on this company, and she could not afford to falter.
Standing outside the boardroom, a door she had once entered with effortless confidence, she took a steadying breath and nodded to her assistant. He understood without words and stepped aside.
With composed hands, she pushed the door open.
Inside, the air was thick with unease. Board members, investors, and senior executives sat in a tense, waiting silence.
Olaedo walked toward the head of the table, her heels striking the marble floor like a countdown. A few close allies offered brief nods of encouragement. Others, the ones who had always envied her, wore smug, thin smiles.
Years of experience had prepared her for moments like this.
"Good evening, everyone," she began, her tone firm but calm.
No one responded, though a few loyal members gave reassuring looks.
"We all know why we're here," she continued. "Let's get started."
She gestured to the Chief Financial Officer.
Akin rose, adjusting his tie, his expression grave. The large screen behind him displayed a cascade of red figures.
"Thank you, Ms. Anozie," he began. "Based on our review, the company is facing a critical financial shortfall. Approximately thirty five billion in local currency has been misappropriated from our accounts."
Gasps and murmurs rippled across the table.
"This impacts both our liquidity and our quarterly projections. Without swift action, we're looking at a loss margin exceeding sixty percent, and a severe risk to investor confidence and our long term partnerships."
He continued his presentation, breaking down the numbers and projections, the room growing heavier with every passing second.
When he finished, Olaedo nodded and turned to Mrs. Shola, head of Legal, a composed, sharp eyed woman who had guided companies through worse storms.
"Our legal position is… challenging," Shola said evenly. "Given the scale of the missing funds and the level of media attention, investigations from regulatory bodies, including the ECTC, are inevitable. I recommend full cooperation with authorities while securing our key assets immediately."
Her calm delivery steadied the room. For the first time that evening, a sense of direction returned.
Next was Mr. Chidi, Chief Human Resources Officer. His kind but weary eyes met hers.
"We need to manage employee morale carefully," he said. "There are rumors of mass layoffs spreading already. It's creating panic. I suggest we issue an internal statement, reassure them we're committed to protecting their jobs. And publicly, we should address the allegations head on to maintain our image."
Olaedo nodded. The weight on her shoulders pressed heavier. Thousands of families…
"Thank you," she said sincerely. Then, to the entire board:
"Protecting our people, our assets, and our reputation is our top priority. I will do everything in my power to stabilize this company."
Her gaze swept across the table. "Now, I'd like to hear your thoughts."
Silence lingered, until a dry cough broke it.
Mr. Ade leaned back, crossing his arms with a smirk. "It's clear we're facing more than a minor setback," he said, his tone laced with disdain. "Some might say this situation calls for fresh leadership. Someone who isn't quite so… personally entangled in the scandal."
The jab was direct.
Olaedo met his gaze coolly. "I understand your concern, Mr. Ade. But I'm fully prepared to guide this company through this challenge and come out stronger."
"And how, exactly, do you plan to do that?" Mrs. Ikenna interjected, her voice sharp. "Shareholders, including some in this room, are losing faith. The stock is crashing, and those with sense are selling before the ship sinks. Tell us, Olaedo, what magic wand do you intend to wave to fix this?"
The subtle hostility in their words struck like knives, but Olaedo stayed poised. She had considered buying back shares to regain leverage, and now, that idea burned brighter in her mind.
She straightened, about to speak, when Mr. Ade, emboldened, raised his voice again.
"It's obvious this company is headed for deeper chaos under current leadership. I think a change is—"
"Of course, Mr. Ade," interrupted Mr. Okeke smoothly, leaning back in his chair with a faint smile. "Or should I say... Dr. Ade?"
The room froze, confusion hanging in the air.
Mr. Ade's chest puffed out proudly. "Ah yes, Doctor, actually. It's Dr. Ade, if you don't mind."
"Oh, apologies, Dr. Ade," Okeke said, his voice dripping with politeness. "I'm sure your doctorate has given you... a lot of insight. Especially considering how generously you invested in earning it."
A beat of silence.
Then, muffled laughter spread through the room.
The color drained from Ade's face, then returned in an angry flush.
"Oh, don't mind me," Okeke continued, still smiling. "We all know that in certain circles, money can buy a lot, even a doctorate degree."
This time, the laughter wasn't muffled.
Even Olaedo had to suppress a smirk.
She couldn't help but glance at Mr. Okeke with a faint, grateful smile. His well timed jab had sliced through the heavy tension in the room like a clean blade.
Even the tightest faces around the table seemed to ease for a moment, a few lips twitching with suppressed amusement.