Many suspicious events have transpired while Zul has been the CEO of the Sashan Free Traders. Just this evening, her right-hand man, Lordza, gave her a report detailing that the company is in the negatives due to crippling Shadow raids on the company's merchant vessels. With the board meeting tonight, Zul knows she's doomed for some sort of consequence but is hopeful that... somehow... she can convince the Board members to give her more money. After all, she's been CEO for a while, and this is the first time she's ever gone negative.
In my previous draft, the board members were a collection of blank faces that didn't have much personality. With this new draft, I am to give more life to the setting while still juggling the many characters in this scene.
The Boardroom was a special office in the heart of the metropolitan square of Ra’Sasha. It was one of those rooms where leaders are replaced daily, money is on everyone’s eyes, and ideas are born just to die. The interior was as daunting as the outside. A wide, rectangular table split the room, extending out to either end of the office walls. On one end, a whiteboard littered with balance sheets, numbers, graphs, and other reports cluttered the blank space. On the other, a horizontal window peered into the industrial heart of the city, showing punier buildings and market stalls that swarmed with hustlers selling food, tools, or whatever they could get their hands on.
The door slammed open, thudding on the wall as the seven shareholders strolled in. A woman walked in first; a socialite headed to the entrance and ordained herself with pearls across her neck—she gave me a cold, bitter glare as she sat down. Two men funneled in, talking amongst each other in their high-end, pompous attitudes that screamed aristocracy as they took a seat. I envied these two heavily—not because I couldn’t afford their luxurious lifestyle—but because they acted like they were above the rest. They also had monocles, so if they wanted to compete in the who can be the most stereotypical rich person, they’d be competing for 1st place.
“Hollure, you look good, eh?” Valdrec shouted from his chair. “I see you got the elder-platinum monocle with the gold trim. What happened to the diamond one?”
They chatted while the rest of the women walked.
“Hi, Zul,” said one of them, “I can’t wait to see how business is doing!”
“Oh, hi, Harriet. Hi Mitsue,” I smiled, gulping down my fears. “Take a seat. Take a seat.”
“Good to see you, Lordza,” a man with a thick mustache said. “Trimmed yesterday?” he inquired, pointing at his goatee.
“Oh, trimmed today,” he chuckled. “Good to see you again.” As soon as he left, Lordza whispered, “he always asks, and I always tell him the same thing.”
“I know,” I responded. “It’s a big mustache too.”
“It’s like a squirrel’s tail—” he grinned.
Before I knew it, the seven investors and two secretaries had all arrived. Lordza and Valdrec were seated next to me, as I was at the head of the table—everyone else’s chairs were pointed toward mine. I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. That was everyone. The whole room stared blankly at me, expectant. I felt a bead of sweat slowly drip down my stomach and resisted the urge to rub it away.
Almost everyone had their arms crossed, even Lordza, as if I was already trying to convince them of something they had no intention of ever agreeing to. Does everyone think bad news is coming? Is that why they’re so stern and raising their brows? I heard it in each individual sigh of exasperation as they dropped into their chairs one by one. I saw it in their narrowed gaze—like they were staring into my soul. These dogs could scent that I was strapped for cash. I couldn’t hide it even if I wanted to, and I wasn’t planning on it, either.
“Zul,” Valdrec called out. “I do believe you can start.”
I swallowed. “Right.”
One by one, a dark-haired spindly secretary passed out the monthly report.
“Very nice,” the socialite woman mumbled. “One hundred and sixty percent, hmm? I like the sound of that.”
“Interesting, interesting,” said the mustache-man.
“Yes, yes, this is why I funded this establishment,” Hollure said to his monocled friend.
From the resounding silence in the room, I knew when they had reached the bottom: the number. The one with a negative sign before it. The number that displayed, for all to see, the exact amount of money I had just lost because of those damn pirates. I ground my teeth together, trying to maintain my cool, then bit my tongue. I’m screwed. I thought, torn between indignation from the pirates and fear of the board members’ awaited reaction.
A woman nearly fainted at the sight.
Another clenched his wallet. “Agh!” he groaned in anguish as if the report had somehow grown an arm and sucker-punched him.
Their collective audible gasp alone was enough to drive me insane. What should I do? What even are my options? I have to ask them for money now? I have to ask them to bail me out after this? Will they trust me? I stopped twirling my hair. No, no. No. I can salvage this—I thought, staring at them defiantly. This is just one small setback. I’ll make them see things my way. I pointedly cleared my throat and stood up, throwing on as much fake bravado as I could. “Gentlemen,” I said, my voice loud enough to drown out my doubting thoughts. “Let’s think of the annual profits. This is just one month, after all.”
“But we are losing the monthly shareholder dividend!” the socialite yelled. “How did you even lose this much money in one day? How do you expect me to have faith in this business?”
“My yacht!” the man winced behind his squirrel-looking mustache. “I was supposed to buy my fourth one next month! I already told Lord Emmyson about it. How am I supposed to show my face now?” He scoffed haughtily, glaring at me.
Hollure’s monocle jumped as he yelled, “What rubbish! What absolute rubbish! This is a rubbish establishment!”
Their yelling overlapped one another, some standing up abruptly and talking loudly with wild hand gestures. One woman in the front had her nose buried deep in the monthly report, scouring it as if she could somehow fuse the numbers together to make up for the losses. I looked at Lordza, and he shrugged, mouthing, “I didn’t expect this,” before turning back to watch the chaos while wringing his fingers under the desk. I closed my eyes for a second, feeling rage and shame sliver up my spine and coil at the base of my neck. This was another goddamned headache that I didn’t need.
“No!” I spoke up, slamming my hand down on the table with such force most people gasped. “I can fix this!” I declared. “These raids will be over soon.” But the silence only lasted a moment or two before they began wriggling around in their seats again.
“Even so!” one of the stockholders stood up, “You are responsible for monthly profits. I look at this paper,” she held it, and waved it in the air like I was some blind idiot, “and all I see is that I’ll be broke within twenty days! What will you be doing about that Azurilina?”
A tempest of emotions built inside of me—the pressure, the anger, the rage fueling a storm. There was a whirlpool inside of me that kept spiraling and spiraling until I just couldn’t take it anymore. Why is it my fault? I clenched my fists, digging my well-manicured nails deep into the flesh of my palms. It stung. I didn’t care. Do I control these pirates? Do they think I want this?! The sounds of the board members steadily faded into a soft buzz in the background. I began panting, huffing short, quick breaths out of my mouth. Lordza looked at me, alarmed. I ignored him. Does it look like I want to get raided? It’s not my fault the Shadows chose to raid the wealthiest ships in the ocean! Hell, these entitled snobs should be showering me with praise! I’m the one who got them this wealthy in the first place!
“And then I heard she was late yesterday,” one added, charging the thunder and lightning that sparked a flash of rage. Why the hell should that matter? It’s my business! I’m the CEO! I was late once in my life and all of a sudden it’s the sole thing that defines me? I should cast a tsunami over this city and start all over.
“Actually!” Valdrec shouted, silencing the room once more as he gingerly lifted himself from his chair. “Let’s take a look at this statistic right here, shall we?”
His secretary dropped off a new paper titled: “Valdrec’s Total Sales.”
“What?” I gagged, glaring daggers at him. I didn’t approve of this! That snake!
Valdrec pointedly ignored me and continued. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he stood up and lazily walked once around the room, “Do not worry. As you can see here, my ships never got attacked. We are not completely in the red” He grabbed the shoulder of one businesswoman, who stared up at him fondly. I had to bite my tongue at the sight of her unfounded adoration. Disgusting. Valdrec went on, “It’s quite simple, really. I have a strategy none can replicate.”
“A strategy?” A murmur rippled around the room. “A strategy that will bring in more money, perhaps?” Tsk. Of course, that’s their only concern. Money, money, money. What about everything I’ve put into this company?!
All they saw was green as if the emerald ink on the page was the only thing worthy of glistening before their precious, diamond-studded eyes.
“This number doesn’t have that red dash behind it!” gawked the mustache-man. Others squawked their agreement.
Valdrec had apparently amassed so much money that he could pay off the shareholder’s dividends. But is it enough to satisfy these hellhounds? “This is from my personal bank account.” He shrugged with a wink, his voice dripping with arrogance. “What can I say? I get a good commission.” He grabbed his buddy with a monocle and pressed down hard enough to cause the main to gulp. No one else seemed to notice. “The problem is…” He went on, “That money is mine, and I don’t really have an incentive to put it back into this business.”
“Oh…” said the man, his monocle raising with his brow.
Valdrec switched to another, placing both hands on his shoulders this time and leaning close to his ear. “But,” he drawled, “if I were to be—oh, I don’t know—promoted… to the Chief Executive Officer position, well—that is an incentive, eh? A large one, in fact. If I was put in charge, perhaps we could fix this month’s little… dividend problem. And with my infallible strategy for keeping the merchandise protected, well, let’s just say you won’t have to see any more negatives ever again.”
“No,” I mumbled. I couldn’t believe my ears. This can’t be happening. “No,” I repeated.
“Yes!” Valdrec shot back, his smile reminding me of how much I wanted to sock him in the face. “Hah,” he chuckled, reaching his arms across two shareholders. “Think about it, men! Ladies! All the wealth in Jaihara. All yours for the taking, eh? No more nasty Shadows to worry about. No more negatives, guaranteed. What do you say?”
Even the secretaries were nodding, wholly encapsulated by Valdrec’s dazzling lies. How can he prevent Shadow raids? They are at war with themselves at times.
“I love the effort!” I said, causing everyone’s necks to twist back to face me. I thought they might break, that’s how quickly they snapped around. “But, gentlemen, you can’t believe a word he’s saying. I was the one who took down a Shadow ship at sea! How is Valdrec supposed to protect you? He’s not a lord! And these negatives… I guarantee you they’ll be positive by next month.”
“But!” the socialite roared. “Valdrec promises positive results this month. Why should we wait?”
“Indeed, he does,” the monocle club murmured. “And what did Zul mean by Valdrec’s no-lord capabilities? We wouldn’t have to worry about the Shadows ever, it seems! We’re golden!”
“And!” Valdrec jumped in, stealing the air directly from my mouth. “All my belongings will be betted on this business as collateral. Surely, that is a greater contribution than whatever skin Zul put into it.”
Lordza slammed the desk. “Shut up, Valdrec!”
“Oh, but how could I, Lordzy, when it all just makes so much sense?” He lifted a hand in the air and placed the other on his chest as if he were making a solemn vow. “Let’s hold a vote, shall we? Majority rules. All in favor of keeping Zul, raise your hand!”
Lordza raised his hand. Valdrec, with his hand still in the air, smirked down at me with thinly veiled venom. I felt ice in my veins. That bastard, he raised his hand to vote for me knowing no one else would!
“All in favor of having me not shut up and become CEO?”
Every other shareholder in the room raised their arm: six out of seven—majority rules.
I was utterly speechless.
“We’re leaving,” Lordza whispered into my ear. When had he stood up? When had he started pushing me up? He grabbed my arm and pulled me. In a daze, I followed him out of that godforsaken room.
The last thing I saw was Valdrec sitting smugly in my chair, victory triumphant on his face.