Page 93 of Unlocking Melodies

The color drained from his face so fast I was worried we might need medical assistance. Mia's smile turned predatory - she'd probably had that particular piece of information ready for weeks, waiting for the perfect moment.

“I- That's not-“ Reuben sputtered.

“Relevant?” I supplied. “Like your concerns about my management style? Or perhaps like your attempts to undermine this company's future because you're afraid of change?”

My father, surprisingly, remained silent throughout this exchange. His expression was unreadable, but something in his posture suggested approval.

“The truth is,” I concluded, turning to address the entire board, “while some of you have been playing corporate espionage, I've been securing our future. The small town investments you're so concerned about? They're part of a larger strategy to revolutionize how tech companies interact with rural communities. Something you'd understand if you'd bothered to read the full proposal instead of plotting corner office coups.”

“Additionally,” I continued, savoring the increasingly panicked looks on their faces, “our legal team has uncovered some... interesting patterns in your recent trading activities. Would you like to explain the rather suspicious timing of your Miller Tech investments? Or should we let the SEC handle those questions?”

The room temperature seemed to drop several degrees. Even my father looked impressed, which was saying something considering he'd practically invented the corporate takedown.

“The board bylaws are quite clear about conflicts of interest,” I pulled up another document on the display screen. “Section 7, paragraph 3 specifically addresses unauthorized investments in competitor companies. Mia, would you mind refreshing everyone's memory?”

Mia stood, her professional smile carrying just the right amount of predatory edge. “According to the bylaws, any board member found to have significant undisclosed investments in direct competitors is subject to immediate removal, pending review.”

“Which brings us to the review.” I paused, letting the moment stretch uncomfortably. “It's done. You're done.”

Reuben's face cycled through several interesting colors. “You can’t do this!”

“I can, and I am. Effective immediately, you're both off the board. The severance packages are more generous than you deserve, but unlike some people in this room, I believe in maintaining professional standards.”

Hayes started to rise, but my father's quiet “Sit down, Hayes” kept him in place. The power dynamics in the room had shifted so completely you could almost hear them cracking.

“Mia,” I turned to my most trusted ally, “handle the paperwork, please. And make sure security escorts our former board members to their offices. We wouldn't want any sensitive documents to go missing.”

“With pleasure,” she replied, already pulling up the necessary forms on her tablet. The slight curl of her lips suggested she'd been looking forward to this moment almost as much as I had.

“Now,” I straightened my already perfect tie, “shall we discuss actual business, or would anyone else like to present their creative writing projects?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Reuben and Hayes sat there sputtering like expensive fish out of water, but I was already moving toward the door. My phone had buzzed four more times during this exchange, and the knot in my stomach had grown into full-blown anxiety.

Something was wrong with Jimmy. I could feel it.

And I'd just cleared my schedule in the most dramatic way possible.

The victory champagne would have to wait. I barely made it back to my office before my hands started shaking, the adrenaline from the boardroom finally giving way to raw fear. Jimmy still wasn't answering. Fifteen calls, twenty-eight texts, and enough voicemails to make me sound like a desperate ex - which, technically, I guess I was.

My office felt too big suddenly, all that carefully curated power meaningless in the face of unanswered rings. The Steinway in the corner watched accusingly as I paced, its polished surface reflecting morning light that felt too bright, too normal for the panic clawing at my chest.

“Come on, Jimmy,” I muttered, trying his number again. “Pick up. Please pick up.”

The familiar voicemail message hit like a physical blow: “Hey, you've reached Jimmy Reed. If this is about The Incident, I still maintain my innocence. If it's about anything else, leave a message!”

His laugh at the end of the recording made my knees weak. I sank into my ridiculously expensive chair, the leather creaking in protest as I leaned forward, elbows on knees, phone clutched like a lifeline.

The city sprawled below my window, unconcerned with my personal crisis. Somewhere down there, deals were being made, lives were changing, and I'd just orchestrated one of the most spectacular corporate takedowns in recent memory. None of it mattered. Not with Jimmy's silence screaming in my ears.

Liam. Liam would know.

My fingers shook as I pulled up his contact. Three rings that felt like eternities, then-

“Ethan.” His voice carried something that made my blood run cold. “I was just about to call you.”

“Where is he?” The words came out raw, stripped of corporate polish. “Liam, he's not answering, and he always answers, even when he's mad at me, even when-“

“Ethan.” The gentleness in his tone stopped my spiral. “We can't find him.”

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