Page 6 of The Alpha's Crimson Vow

This is such a waste of time. Frank doesn’t understand the vision, the potential, the necessity of this expansion. He’s too small-minded, too focused on protecting his comfort zone to see the bigger picture.

The fire of my annoyance dulls for a moment, giving way to something softer, warmer. My thoughts tilt, drifting to last night.

It’s almost comical—the contrast between this sterile boardroom and the memory of my office, where I sat cross-legged on the couch, sharing a bowl of instant ramen with Alex. The warmth of that moment sneaks into me like sunlight breaking through a storm cloud. I almost smile, but I catch myself and quickly adjust my expression, tilting my head as if I’m considering Frank’s latest graph.

It wasn’t the food—Goodness, no. It was way too salty. But it didn’t matter. For the first time in... I don’t know how long, I felt full. Not in the literal sense, but something deeper. Sitting there, over a pack of ramen that barely had any flavor, and a can of an energy drink, I felt something that’s become increasingly rare for me: ease.

With Alex, I didn’t feel like I had to have my guard up. I didn’t have to measure every word, calculate every move, or outmaneuver someone’s agenda. I could just be. The thought is terrifying and thrilling all at once.

I can hear my own voice from last night, rapid and unfiltered, spilling out anecdotes, half-formed thoughts, and even a few ridiculous tangents about the latest board drama. I remember the way he sat there, quiet but attentive, his eyes warmand steady. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t try to redirect the conversation, didn’t even seem bored. He just... listened.

And I talked. God, did I talk. I don’t think I’ve ever said that much to anyone in one sitting. But with him, it felt natural. Like the words were spilling out of me because they’d been waiting for someone like him to hear them. Someone who didn’t need to challenge me, but simply see me.

Frank’s voice jolts me back to the present, his tone insistent now, as if he’s gaining momentum. “... and if we proceed, the financial risks will undoubtedly outweigh the potential benefits.” His gaze darts toward me, sharp and calculating.

I meet his gaze, my lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile. It’s not warm. It’s not meant to be. It’s the smile of someone who’s already ten moves ahead, who knows exactly how this meeting will end, no matter how much noise he makes in the meantime.

“Frank.” My voice cuts through his monologue like a blade. He falters for half a second, but quickly covers it up.

“The expansion to Asia,” I say, my tone steady, commanding, leaving no room for debate, “will go ahead.”

Silence.

It blankets the room in the wake of my words. I can feel their eyes on me, assessing, calculating. I don’t flinch. I don’t blink. I let the silence stretch long enough to make my point.

Frank blinks rapidly, his composure slipping like a mask on the verge of falling. For a fleeting moment, I savor it, but I keep my expression carved from stone.

He clears his throat, his voice carrying that carefully measured tone of false confidence. “Miss CEO,” he begins, “I think that from everything I’ve just said, there’s a very compellingargument that we simply cannot properly execute an expansion of the magnitude you’re proposing.”

There it is again.The mockery embedded in those two words: Miss CEO. He says it like a slur wrapped in civility, as though the title doesn’t belong to me, as though my position is still up for debate. But now is not the time to dwell on his petty disrespect.

“Everything you’ve just said,” I reply, my voice steady and unyielding, “is the same as you said in the last meeting, Frank. So I’ll reiterate the things I’ve said previously. We certainly have the means, especially financially, to properly execute my expansion plan.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “But what about the infrastructure? We don’t have any infrastructure in Asia.”

“We will soon,” I counter smoothly. “I already highlighted the specific areas we are looking to make land purchases in. I also brought the board up to speed with initial talks to finalize those purchases.”

“Katherine,” he says, his tone more strained now, “the purchases you suggested are expensive.”

He always gets frustrated when he can’t get his way.

“Well…” I tilt my head slightly, a faint hint of amusement creeping into my tone. “Mr. CFO, I’m surprised you would think it’s expensive. Considering that over the last quarter we’ve generated record revenues, thanks to my expansion strategy within the country, by the way. I’m sure you’re aware we can easily afford this new plan.”

His jaw tightens visibly, and I catch the throb of a vein in his neck. The other board members are watching, their eyes darting between us like spectators at a tennis match.

“You didn’t let me finish. The increase in revenue from the previous project was wonderful because it was going to bring usall great profit. Expanding into Asia is a big expense and from my calculations, most of our current profit would become capital for that. What profit would be left for us in that case?”

My eyebrow arches before I can stop it. The board members around us all turn to me now.

He continues, more confident now that he has gotten a reaction out of everyone,. “Your expansion in the country has yielded some results, yes. And I think it would be more beneficial for morale if we increased the dividends of everyone on this board first, rather than embarking on another expansion that is a risk, and could lead to losses.”

He’s trying to sway the board with this hilarious attempt.

“So…” I lean forward slightly, fixing him with a look that’s all steel. “From what I gather, Frank, you haven’t been able to make any credible arguments against our capabilities for expansion… other than suggesting we divert funds to boardmember dividends?”

Frank bristles. “We’re in this to make money!” he starts.

I wave my hand, stopping whatever he means to say after that. “If your response to a little success is to immediately squander the profits, you won’t go very far.”

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