Page 64 of Ugly Truths
Chapter 26
Silas
The boardroom next to my father’s office is meticulously designed. Floor-to-ceiling windows stretch along one side, offering a clear view of the skyline, as if Wells Corporation itself is staring down at the city, reminding everyone who built it.
The black conference table is long enough to seat the entire board with space to spare, and the tan leather chairs, which are usually neatly arranged, are slightly off-kilter and settled into by our twelve board members, myself included.
Along the walls, framed articles showcase Wells’s achievements. Expansion milestones. Regulatory victories. Pharmaceutical breakthroughs.
Proof of dominance.
My father is perched at the head of the table, flipping through his papers as if he has all the time in the world. There’s a power in forcing people to wait for you. On you. It makes every decision seem like it’s his and his alone. I’ve seen him do it a thousand times before.
We’d been steadily making our way down the quarterly agenda, with most of it being centered around the executive transition. My eyes move to the next item on my tablet, and I frown slightly at the item that wasn’t listed when I reviewed it several days ago.
Strategic Operational Growth Proposal – Discussion
The verbiage makes the hairs on my neck stand up.
Across the table, our CFO, Everett, is the picture of neutrality, other than his fingers tapping idly against his tablet. Next to me, Natalie is scrolling through the agenda too, her mouth pressing into a tight line when she stops on the same item.
“I’d like to open the floor for an important discussion about the future of Wells Corporation,” William starts, leaning back. “Jeremy has been working on an exciting operational initiative. I’d like him to introduce it to the board.”
To my father’s left, Jeremy straightens his posture along with the front of his lavender tie. Even from my seat at the near opposite end of the room, I can see the way his body vibrates with excitement.
Natalie pokes my leg under the table, but I don’t allow my eyes to even flicker her way. I reach for my coffee cup, positioning it at my lips to conceal my grimace as Jeremy smacks his hands down against the table, jolting everyone to attention.
“Right now, Wells is standing at a crossroads,” he begins in a conspiratorial voice. “One way leads to innovation, the other to irrelevance.”
The confident grin he flashes reminds me of the many pharmaceutical presentations I’ve attended over the years. At the very least, he fits the part. “Automation is the future of pharmaceutical manufacturing, and we’re behind. If we don’t integrate AI-driven processes and rethink our global footprint, we’re going to lose our competitive edge.”
I blink, setting my mug back down.
There’s a small beat when I expect a slide deck to flash on any of the three wall-mounted televisions, or for my brother to reach under the table to pull out board briefing packets with supporting documents and research. Instead, Jeremy leans back in his seat, his voice taking on that particular brand of enthusiasm that comes when someone has never second-guessed themselves a day in their life.
His chair squeaks. “Our current facilities are outdated and expensive to maintain. If we fully integrate AI-driven automation into our manufacturing plants, we could reduce labor costs and increase productionefficiency by nearly forty percent. And, if we shift certain key facilities overseas, we can cut expenses and improve global distribution.”
He gestures broadly, like this is a no-brainer. “Think about it. Leaner operations, faster output, lower costs. If we’re serious about long-term market positioning, this is how we get ahead.”
Silence settles, and I wait for something else. Jeremy folds his fingers together over his abdomen as he scans our reactions and smiles with such conviction it’s like he’s expecting us to give him a standing ovation.
Natalie’s foot finds my calf under the table, kicking me with the point of her heel. Though it burns, my brain is churning too quickly through the past few minutes to have a reaction.
This is insane.
Not just because AI-driven automation is still in its infancy in pharmaceuticals, but also that Wells doesn’t have the necessary infrastructure or regulatory framework in place for any of this.
Next to my brother, William offers him a small nod and shifts his chair just slightly. His arms stay loose on the armrests, but I’ve seen this move too many times not to know what he’s doing.
It’s in the slight lean, the relaxed shoulders, the faint crease in the corner of his eyes like he’s genuinely considering something. The cues are subtle enough that most people won’t even clock them, but they’ll feel it. The nod. The openness. The implied agreement. He’s pulling out all the stops to show his approval without saying it.
I slide a glance past Natalie and to Elias, a prominent business leader in the city I’d brought onto the board several years ago, who is watching the room. Mark, the board’s representative for outside capital, lets out an unimpressed breath.
The silence seems to gain weight with each passing moment.
Everett blinks furiously, as if he’s trying to figure out what fresh hell he’s fallen into. “Have you run the numbers?” His voice is clipped as he leans his elbows on the table. “The financial risk alone would be substantial, if notdisastrous.”
Jeremy shrugs, flashing that same lazy grin. “We’ll figure out the financials as we go. The cost savings on labor alone will balance it out over time.”
