He didn’t move. He didn’t look for an escape route or a clever retort. Instead, his gaze hardened, the shock I’d glimpsed a moment ago calcifying into pure, unadulterated hatred. He stared at me with the cold, dead eyes of a shark that had finally realized the prey bit back.
“Fifteen minutes, Arthur,” I repeated, my voice dropping an octave. “Or I make the call.”
He looked at me one last time. The arrogance hadn't vanished; it had curdled toxic. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, knuckles white. I saw the impulse flare in his eyes—the desire to lunge across the desk, to hurt me, to destroy me for besting him.
But he knew I held the detonator.
With a jerky motion, he snatched up the cardboard box.
He turned and walked out, his spine rigid, his footsteps striking the floor with suppressed rage.
I waited until the door slammed shut—hard enough to rattle the frame.
Then, I swivel my chair toward the window, looking out. My hands were shaking, just a little, from the adrenaline crash.
It was done.
Fifteen minutes later, a knock on my doorframe made me look up. Lisa stood there, a fierce grin on her face. She held a single sheet of paper.
“He’s gone,” she said. “Security escorted him out. And he left this.”
She placed the resignation letter on my desk. Signed. Effective immediately.
“Oh,” she added, her eyes twinkling. “And Mr. Ashley is on line one.”
I took a deep breath, smoothing my suit jacket. I picked up the receiver.
“Mr. Ashley. I was just thinking about you.”
“Congratulations, Mrs. Carideo,” Leonard’s voice came through warm and clear. “I heard the vote was almost unanimous.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Though I admit... I’m curious. Tuesday you told me to come back in a year. What made you change your mind?”
There was a pause, then Ashley chuckled. “When you walked out of here, I sat with what you’d said for about ten minutes. Then I pulled up your presentation from Aspen—the technical specs, the regulatory strategy. Allyourwork. And I realized you were right. I’d judged you unfairly—not because you’re a woman, mind you, but because of your situation after Marco’s tragic accident. I couldn’t believe that after such a trauma, whileraising four children, you’d be able to properly lead CarideoTech into the next phase. Your visit to my office proved otherwise. You have guts, Theresa. Real guts, the kind it takes to run a large company.”
Warmth spread through my chest. My Hail Mary pitch had worked.
“Well,” I said, gathering myself, “I’m truly grateful for your reconsideration. I really look forward to working with you, Mr. Ashley.”
“Likewise, Mrs. Carideo. I’ll have my team coordinate with yours on the final paperwork.”
After the call ended, I let the reality wash over me. I’d done it. Against all odds, despite Arthur’s sabotage, through the grief and the impossible juggling of ten thousand responsibilities, I’d actually done it.
The company was safe. Marco’s legacy was secure. And I was the CEO.
Lisa poked her head in again. “Johnson and Haskins just submitted their resignations.”
“Good riddance.” I pulled out my legal pad, already thinking through the board restructuring we’d need.
Lisa grinned. “Also, you have about fifteen interview requests from tech journalists who somehow heard about Arthur’s abrupt departure.”
“No comment for now,” I said. “We’ll issue a statement tomorrow about the Ashley investment and the leadership transition. Keep it professional, forward-looking.”
“Got it.” Lisa turned to leave, then paused. “Theresa? I just wanted to say... Marco would be proud of you.”
My throat tightened. “Thank you.”
Chapter
