Page 35 of The Founder's Power

She paces slowly in front of the projection screen, her heels silent on polished tile, her tablet tucked beneath one arm. She’s dressed in charcoal and silk, her dark hair twisted into a sleek knot that gives away nothing, not even movement.

She’s been in my orbit for less than a week, but she already acts like she’s lived here.

“Veridian Holdings doesn’t make mistakes,” she says, her voice smooth and measured. “They test and measure, and then they absorb. The Nexon acquisition wasn’t about data. It was a pressure test. They wanted to see how you would react.”

I lean back in my chair, arms folded. “And what do they think they’ve seen?”

Naomi offers me a cool smile. “That you’re reactive. That you’re stretched thin. That your board is too diversified and your infrastructure too siloed to pivot quickly.”

Clara shifts beside me, but I don’t look at her. I keep my eyes on Naomi.

“And your suggestion?” I ask.

“Centralize communications,” she says immediately. “Create an internal response task force. Reassign some of your mid-level execs publicly. Make noise. Look cohesive even if you’re not.” Her tablet lights up, and she taps a few times, casting a new slide onto the screen. “Our job isn’t to reassure the market,” she continues. “It’s to rattle Veridian Holdings. Make them second-guess whether the fight is worth it.”

I watch her for a long moment.

She’s smart and sharp. A little too polished, maybe, but she knows the landscape, and right now, I need every weapon I can get.

“Run with it,” I say.

Her smile widens just slightly. “Pleasure,” she says, and slides her tablet back under her arm. “I’ll start pulling names by morning.”

She leaves the room like she’s gliding.

Clara waits until the door closes before speaking. “She’s certainly effective.”

“Agreed. You wouldn’t have done anything differently, would you have?”

“No. I wouldn’t have even thought about reassigning mid-level executives. It could help, though.”

“We need every edge we can find.”

She nods. “Let me know what to do.”

“I will.”

CHAPTER19

ISABELLE

It starts small.

A calendar invite instead of a text.

A rescheduled dinner with a short, clipped voicemail. “Pushed to Friday. Veridian Holdings’ lawyers are posturing. Sorry.”

I tell myself it’s nothing and that he warned me it would be hard. He’s trying, I know he is, but old habits don’t die.

They lurk.

By the third missed dinner, I stop asking if he’ll come. I paint late into the night, trying to ignore the hollow space in the studio where his laughter used to settle. My canvas turns darker and angrier.

When he does show up, he’s all charm but clearly exhausted. He brings pastries I don’t want and kisses my cheek like it’s enough to keep me here.

Worse, he redirects conversations. He smooths over tension with gifts, and the gestures that feel more like damage control than love. His mind is always elsewhere, even when he is next to me.

He hasn’t asked about my student in a week, and he hasn’t noticed that I hung a new piece in the gallery’s front window.

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