Olympus Royale CFO Resigns Amid Workplace Misconduct Scandal
I read the article, my stomach sinking with each paragraph. Henri had resigned. Effective immediately. And his statement made it sound like he was the hero—the conscientious executive who couldn’t tolerate the Kolykos brothers’ “pattern of inappropriate workplace relationships and ethical violations.”
He was positioning himself as the whistleblower. The good guy trying to save the company from corrupt leadership.
And people were believing him.
The comments section was predictably awful:
Finally, someone with integrity standing up to those billionaire playboys.
The woman was obviously using sex to climb the corporate ladder.
Three brothers and one employee? That’s not a relationship, that’s a hostile work environment.
I closed the laptop before I could read more.
My phone rang. Unknown number. I let it go to voicemail.
It rang again. Different number. Voicemail.
A third time. I turned it off entirely.
The silence pressed in, suffocating and absolute. This was what isolation felt like. Being cut off from work, from purpose, from the men I’d somehow fallen for in record time. Waiting for someone else to decide my fate.
A knock at the door made me jump.
“Tashi?” Orion’s voice came through. “It’s us. Can we come in?”
I hesitated, suddenly aware of how I must look—unwashed hair, three-day-old pajamas, surrounded by the detritus of a minor breakdown.
“Just a second,” I called, scrambling to make myself presentable. I grabbed a hoodie, ran my fingers through my hair, and tried to look like someone who had her life together.
It didn’t work.
When I opened the door, all three of them stood there looking concerned. Not the polished executives I’d grown used to, but tired men who’d clearly been fighting their own battles.
“Hey,” Leo said gently. “We brought food.”
“And coffee,” Ares added, holding up a carrier with multiple cups.
“And updates,” Orion finished. “Can we come in?”
I stepped aside, suddenly grateful I wasn’t alone anymore.
They settled into my suite like they belonged there—Leo unpacking takeout containers, Ares setting up coffee, and Orion closing the curtains to block out the Vegas sun that felt too bright for the mood.
“You’ve been watching the news,” Orion said. Not a question.
“Hard not to.” I wrapped my hands around the coffee cup Ares handed me. “Henri resigned.”
Ares nodded. “The evidence we took to the board backed up everything we suspected—but it also confirmed this is bigger than Henri.”
“We know.” Leo’s voice was tight. “And he’s positioning himself as the ethical one while painting us as corrupt management.”
“Is it working?”
“With some people, yes.” Orion sat across from me, his expression unreadable. “Mitchell pulled his investment. Two other investors are ‘reassessing their positions.’ The Gaming Commission is expanding their investigation.”
