So that’s why he’d been so vicious. So quick to criticize. So eager to shift goalposts, create new demands, invent problems only he could see. It had never been about my leadership. It had always been about his exit. This wasn’t sabotage for sport. It was self-preservation. Ugly, selfish self-preservation.
And I was collateral damage.
“Emma,” Margaret continued gently, “a preliminary audit is loud. It creates a record. It pulls departments in. People talk. He knows that. He wants it to look like he’s leaving a troubled company—not abandoning a thriving one. He’s requesting thelast six quarters of reporting,” she finished. “Payroll, department spend, project logs, staffing allocations. The full picture.”
“That’s practically a full audit.”
“I know. I’m pushing back. But Davidson is maneuvering carefully. He isn’t trying to run Elion. He’s trying to flee Elion without looking like a coward.”
I pressed a hand to my forehead as the final piece clicked into place. “When do they want the documents?” I asked, the words flat.
“End of next week.”
Cold rushed through me. “Margaret—”
“I know,” she said quickly. “It’s too soon. I’m trying to buy time.”
Of course he wanted it fast. Pressure works better when no one can breathe.
“Emma,” she continued, lower now, “I need you to prepare for internal fallout. If word spreads—and it will—your people may panic. They’ll think something’s wrong. They’ll wonder if you’ve been hiding problems.”
Translation: It will make you look like you’re failing them. It would scare them. Make them doubt everything we’d worked to rebuild.
My stomach churned.
It will unravel the stability we’ve fought to rebuild. Right when we were so close.
“I’ll handle it.”
“Good. I’ll call you if anything changes.”
The line went dead.
I lowered the phone slowly, like a sudden movement might make everything crash.
A preliminary audit.
Davidson’s exit strategy.
My humiliation packaged as “due diligence.”
And everyone at Elion would see it.
The people who trusted me.
The people I was responsible for.
The people I was finally pulling back from the edge.
My vision pricked.
Nausea rolled through me.
My hands shook.
He’s not attacking Elion.
He’s attacking you.
