“They were hand-selected for their competence and professionalism.” I switch to another angle showing Jenny heading toward her desk. “Unlike the previous group of incompetents.”
“Speaking of which, HR completed processing the severance packages for the terminated employees.”
“Good. Make sure they understand the non-disclosure agreements are ironclad.” My tone leaves no room for discussion. The former employees needed to disappear quietly, taking their toxic influence far from Jenny.
Through the cameras, I watch Jenny settle at her desk, arranging her workspace with precise movements. She opens her laptop, revealing the small succulent plant I’d noticed she keeps near her monitor—a touch of life in the sterile office environment.
“Shall I have accounting process the bonus payment we discussed?” asks Dmitri.
“Yes. Jenny’s earned every penny, dealing with those vipers for so long.” I tap into the feed from her desk camera, observing how she straightens her shoulders before diving into work. “She’s stronger than they ever realized.”
The door closes softly as Dmitri leaves. He probably thinks my attention to Jenny is odd, but I’m beyond caring what anyone, except her, thinks. I continue watching her, remembering countless surveillance hours witnessing her strength. She’d stayed late most nights, perfecting reports others would claim credit for. She’d come in early to help coworkers who only stabbed her in the back later.
Through it all, she’d maintained her dignity, fighting for two lousy promotions they’d done their best to deny her. If they’d paid any attention to her talent, she’d have been in that harridan Miranda’s spot as CEO instead of merely an executive assistant.
Firing everyone had been a calculated risk, but a necessary one. Jenny deserved better than to remain trapped in that toxic environment. Now I can shape things exactly as they shouldbe, with her positioned where she belongs—at the center of my carefully constructed world.
I watchJenny approach my office through the security feeds less than an hour later. Her steps are measured and purposeful. The morning light streaming through the windows catches the highlights in her chestnut hair. She pauses at Natalia’s desk, exchanging pleasantries before knocking on my door.
“Come in,” I call out, minimizing the surveillance feeds on my monitor.
She enters, tablet in hand. Her professional mask is firmly in place, but I see the questions burning in her dark eyes. “Mr. Markov, I have the departmental reorganization reports you requested via email.”
Less than an hour later. Good girl. “Excellent. Take a seat.” I gesture to the chair across from my desk.
She perches on the edge, keeping her spine straight. “I noticed several discrepancies that need addressing.”
“Such as?”
“The mass terminations, for one.” Her voice remains steady and professional, but her eyes are recriminatory. “Ninety-nine percent of our workforce was eliminated overnight, and you’ve only hired enough staff to replace seventy percent. That’s going to severely impact productivity.”
I settle back in my chair. “The terminated employees weren’t meeting company standards. The employees I brought on—andthe one I kept—will more than compensate for the remaining twenty-nine percent difference..”
“All of them?” She taps her tablet screen. “Including Miranda Stevens, who increased quarterly profits by twenty-three percent during her tenure as CEO? Or James Caufed, whose marketing strategies brought in three major clients last month?”
“They weren’t contributing in ways that mattered.”
Her eyes narrow slightly. “With all due respect, sir, that’s not a sufficient explanation for gutting entire departments and firing everyone.”
“Except you,” I say firmly, as a reminder of her new position. “I don’t need to explain my business decisions, Ms. Graham.”
“No, you don’t.” She straightens her shoulders. “However, as your personal assistant, I need to understand the reasoning behind major organizational changes to effectively do my job.”
I study her for a moment, admiring her courage while tamping down my irritation at her questioning. She must have some idea, but if she knew the full truth—how those same “successful” employees had systematically undermined and belittled her—she might understand. Miranda’s “successful” leadership had included taking credit for Jenny’s work while she and her assistant spread vicious rumors. James Caufed had deliberately excluded her from crucial meetings, then blamed her for missing information.
“The company is moving in a new direction,” I say instead. “The previous staff wasn’t aligned with that vision.”
“And what vision is that exactly?”
“One that values genuine talent and contribution over office politics and favoritism.”
She opens her mouth to argue, then stops herself. Smart girl. She knows when to push and when to retreat.
“Is there anything else?” I ask.
“Yes, actually.” She pulls up another document. “The new organizational chart shows several positions reporting directly to me that traditionally report to department heads. That seems inefficient.”
“The structure was deliberately designed that way. You’ll be integral to operations moving forward.”