2026-01-15 05:47:55The pay cut notice lay in the center of the table like a dead thing.
SALARIES TEMPORARILY REDUCED TO 60%
No one touched it. No one needed to. “This is not a collapse,”
Richard Hale said, voice tighter than usual. “It’s a recalibration.”
A few people exchanged looks. “A recalibration doesn’t empty savings accounts,” someone muttered.
Richard’s head snapped up. “Speak clearly or don’t speak at all.
The room fell silent again, but it was a different silence now. Not fear. Resentment.
The CFO adjusted his glasses. “Staff morale is deteriorating fast. We’ve had six resignations since yesterday.”
“Let them go,”
Richard said. “Anyone loyal will stay.”
“Loyalty doesn’t pay rent,” a woman from HR said quietly.
Richard exhaled, rubbed his face, then, surprisingly, sat down
That alone startled them. “Alright,”
he said after a moment. “Enough emotion. I want solutions.”
The word solutions hung there, strange and unfamiliar. Daniel’s chair was still empty.
The operations manager leaned forward cautiously. “We need to change strategy. Immediately.”
Richard nodded once. “Fine. What do you suggest?”
A pause. Then another. People looked at their notes, their screens, anywhere but his eyes.
Finally, a voice spoke, older, steadier. “There is someone who already mapped this out.”
Richard stiffened. “We all know who,”
the man continued. “Ethan Blackwood.”
The room held its breath. Richard’s jaw tightened. “We are not revisiting that.”
“He predicted this,”
the man said. “The salary cuts. The supplier pressure. Even the timing.”
“That doesn’t make him a savior,” Richard snapped.
“No,”
the man replied. “It makes him useful.”
A murmur rippled through the room. “We should call him,”
another voice added. “At least hear what he has to say.”
Richard stood abruptly. “Absolutely not.”
“Richard,”
“That boy is not stepping foot in this company again,” Richard said sharply. “Not even if he offers to work for free.”
Silence fell again, but this time, it was defeated.
Richard paced. “We will fix this internally. We don’t need an arrogant graduate to tell us how to run our own company.”
The CFO hesitated. “With respect, sir… we may not have the luxury of pride anymore.”
Richard turned on him. “Careful.”
Before anyone could speak again, The phone rang. Sharp. Sudden. Every head turned. Richard frowned, glanced at the screen, then answered irritably. “What is it?”
A calm voice came through the speaker. “If you continue with your current strategy,”
the voice said, “two of your major contributors will withdraw their contracts within thirty days.”
The room froze. Richard straightened. “Who is this?”
A pause. “This is Ethan.”
A few people inhaled sharply. Richard’s face flushed. “How did you get this number?”
But the line went dead. Ethan had hung up. For a second, no one moved. Then Richard slammed the phone down.
“That insolent little,”
“He sounded confident,” someone said quietly.
Richard spun. “Enough.”
“He named contributors,”
the CFO added carefully. “If he’s right”
“He is guessing,”
Richard snapped. “Trying to intimidate us.”
Another manager swallowed. “What if he’s not?”
Richard’s voice rose. “I said enough!”
He planted his hands on the table. “I will prove him wrong. I will prove all of you wrong.”
No one answered. Richard straightened his jacket. “We stick to the plan. No calls. No begging. No consultants.”
He looked around the room, daring someone to challenge him. “This company is still under my control,”
he said. “And I know exactly what I’m doing.”
The meeting ended without agreement. People filed out slowly, heavier than when they’d entered. Across the city, Ethan Blackwood stood in a glass-walled office, phone still in his hand. “You didn’t even let him respond,”
the woman beside him said. “I didn’t need to,
”Ethan replied.
She raised an eyebrow. “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” he said calmly. “He’ll do exactly what I expect.”
“And what’s that?”
Ethan looked out at the skyline. “He’ll double down.”
She smiled faintly. “And the contributors?”
“They’ve already made their decision,”
Ethan said. “They’re just waiting for confirmation.”
He set the phone down. Silence settled, comfortable, focused. “Do you feel anything?”
she asked. “Watching them fall apart?”
Ethan considered the question. “No,”
he said. “I feel clarity.”
Back at Hale Industries, Richard stood alone in the boardroom. The pay cut notice still lay on the table. His assistant knocked. “Sir… two partners have requested meetings. Urgent.”
Richard waved her off. “Schedule them.”
She hesitated. “They sound… nervous.”
Richard forced a smile. “So are people who don’t understand leadership.”
She left. Richard looked at the empty chair again. “This ends now,”
he muttered. But somewhere deep down, where arrogance was finally thinning, a quiet fear whispered back: What if the boy is right?
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CHAPTER 13 — MEN AT THE BAR
Friday nights never changed.No matter how the week went, profit or loss, victory or humiliation, Richard Hale always ended his Fridays at the same bar. Same corner booth. Same low lights. Same seven men.They called themselves friends, but they were more like mirrors, men of power, ego, money, and influence. CEOs, investors, contractors, politicians-in-waiting. Men who believed the world bent because they leaned on it.The bar smelled of aged whiskey and polished wood. Jazz hummed softly in the background, just loud enough to drown out conscience.Richard arrived late. That alone drew attention. “Look who finally decided to join civilization,”one of them joked. Richard didn’t smile. He loosened his tie and dropped into the booth, signaling the bartender without a word. “Bad week?”another asked. Richard took the glass handed to him and swallowed deeply before answering. “Bad… realization,”he said. That caught their attention. They leaned in. Richard stared into his drink for a mome
CHAPTER 12 — THE WAITING ROOM OF POWER
The mood was different. That alone unsettled people. For the first time in years, laughter existed inside the walls of Hale Industries’ boardroom, not loud, not careless, but restrained, hopeful.Smiles appeared where fear once lived. Conversations flowed without whispers. People walked in lighter. Chairs were pulled back without hesitation. Coffee cups were filled without shaking hands.Some even joked quietly, careful not to tempt fate. Friday had arrived. And with it, Ethan. Or so they believed. Amara took her seat and looked around the room. She counted faces.Everyone was present, no sick excuses, no sudden errands. Even staff who rarely attended meetings had found reasons to be there.Hope had summoned them. Daniel adjusted his tie for the third time. He hadn’t slept much. The thought that he, of all people, had sparked this moment made his chest tight. “Do you think he’ll come?”someone whispered. “He said yes,”another replied. “People like him don’t break appointments.” Dani
CHAPTER 11 — THE SUMMONING
The meeting ended without resolution. That alone was unusual.Richard Hale stood slowly, straightened his jacket, and said, “Let’s end this meeting here. We’ll reconvene tomorrow morning. I need to make some enquiries.” Nothing more.No explanations. No arguments. No insults. Just that. People exchanged looks as he walked out—measured steps, shoulders squared, face unreadable. The door closed behind him with a soft click, yet it sounded louder than any shout he had ever made.For the first time in years, Richard Hale had asked for time. That night, his office light stayed on longer than usual.He sat alone, files spread across his desk. Reports. Old emails. Projections he had once dismissed without reading past the first page.One name appeared again and again. Ethan Blackwood. Richard leaned back, fingers pressed together.He remembered the boy, quiet, observant, always writing things down. He remembered how easily Ethan had spoken in meetings, how confidently he had predicted outcom
CHAPTER 10 — THE NAME THAT REFUSED TO DIE
The room was silent. Not the awkward kind. The heavy kind.Richard Hale stood at the head of the table again, hands resting on the polished wood, eyes moving slowly from face to face. The words spoken in the last meeting still hung in the air like smoke that refused to clear. He exhaled.Then spoke. “Does anyone else,”he said calmly, “have anything to say?”No anger. No shouting. Just a question. People shifted in their seats. No one raised a hand. Richard nodded once, as if confirming what he already believed. “Good,”he said. “Then”A hand went up. Everyone turned.It was a woman. Mid-thirties. Calm eyes. One of the few senior staff who had survived years without being sacked, mostly because she spoke little. Richard paused. His eyes rested on her hand. She had never raised it before.“What is your name?”he asked. “Amara,”she replied softly. Richard gestured. “Speak.”She stood slowly, smoothing her jacket, gathering herself. “Sir,”she began, respectful but firm, “I don’t intend
CHAPTER 9 — THE LAST MEETING
The meeting room filled slowly that morning. No one rushed. No one joked. People took their seats like mourners attending a funeral they already knew the outcome of. Richard Hale arrived last. He didn’t carry files. Didn’t carry reports. Didn’t even carry anger. He carried finality.He stood at the head of the table, looked at the faces before him, some familiar, some already halfway gone, and cleared his throat. “I won’t waste your time,”he said calmly. “I think this will be our last meeting.”A ripple passed through the room. “This company,”Richard continued, “can no longer sustain itself. I have made up my mind.”He paused, then delivered it cleanly. “We are shutting down.”A sharp inhale. A stifled gasp. A chair scraping backward. No one spoke. Richard nodded, as if confirming a decision already stamped.“I will work with legal and finance to manage the closure. Severance will be discussed where possible.”Where possible. The words tasted cruel. He folded his hands. “That is al
CHAPTER 8 — THE ARGUMENT INSIDE HIS HEAD
The message reached him before he reached his office. Richard Hale stepped out of the elevator, phone pressed to his ear, his jaw tightening with every word.“…Six?”he repeated. “They didn’t resume?”A pause. “Yes, sir. No notice.”Richard stopped walking. Six workers. Gone. Not sick. Not late. Gone. “Terminate them,”he said flatly. “Effective immediately.”The voice on the other end hesitated. “Sir”“Did you hear me?”Richard snapped. “All six. Sack them.”“Yes, sir.”The call ended. Richard stood there for a moment, staring down the hallway. Desks were emptier than they used to be. Conversations stopped when he passed. Eyes dropped.Fear had replaced respect. He entered his office and shut the door harder than necessary. Six more. He loosened his tie and dropped into his chair, staring at the wall without seeing it.Eight months. That number mocked him now. His desk phone sat untouched. His laptop screen glowed with unread reports. didn’t open them.Instead, a voice echoed in his
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