"What are you telling them?"
"Security concern. Precautionary measure. Should be resolved within the week." The lie feels smooth on my tongue. Years of boardroom negotiations taught me how to deliver half-truths with complete confidence. "They'll accept it because questioning me publicly would show weakness."
"And privately?"
I meet his gaze. "Privately, they're probably speculating about everything from corporate espionage to personal scandal. But they won't push. Not directly."
"Your uncle might."
His words land harder than I expect. "You've been reading the background files."
"I read everything about threats to my asset." He pours himself more coffee. "Armand Deveraux. Your mother's younger brother. Passed over for CEO when your father died. He's on your board and has his own company running exploration and development. Been building alliances with executives who opposed your leadership."
I shouldn't be surprised that Rapier Strategic did comprehensive background checks. But hearing it laid out so clinically makes my family's dysfunction feel like case evidence instead of personal history.
"Armand wanted the company. Still wants it. But LaCroix Petroleum has always passed to direct descendants. My grandfather's will was very specific." I try to keep my hands from shaking. "When my father died, the board tried to install Armand as interim CEO until I finished my MBA. I convinced them I could run the company immediately. Proved it by closing a deal with a Brazilian consortium that had been stalled for two years."
"How old were you?"
"Twenty-eight. Fresh out of Wharton. Everyone thought I'd fail within six months." The memory still stings. "Armand tried to ensure it. Leaked information to competitors, undermined my decisions in board meetings, positioned himself as the experienced hand who could steady the ship when I inevitably crashed it."
"But you didn't crash it."
"No. I grew it. Doubled revenue within years through aggressive expansion and strategic acquisitions. Made every executive who bet against me look like a fool." I need something to do with my hands. "Armand's never forgiven me for that."
Luc's expression doesn't change, but I can see him processing the information. Fitting it into whatever threat assessment matrix he's building about my life.
"He's on the video conference this morning?"
"He usually is. Board members have standing invitations to executive meetings." I glance at the time. "I need to set up my laptop upstairs. Get into CEO mode before they see me."
"I'll be watching."
The words should feel intrusive. Instead, they feel grounding. Like having someone see the act for what it is instead of buying into the illusion.
I head upstairs to the workspace, boot up my laptop, and connect to the secure server Luc's tech team configuredyesterday. The familiar LaCroix Petroleum interface loads, and for a moment I'm back in my element. This I can control.
Except when I glance toward the door, Luc's leaning against the frame. Not hovering. Not asking permission to observe. Just there. Watching me with the same tactical focus I've seen him use when checking the perimeter feeds.
"You're staying for the meeting?" I don't frame it as a question.
"I'm staying." He moves into the room, takes a seat in the corner where he'll be off-camera but able to see my screen. "I need to see how they interact with you."
The idea of Luc watching me command my executive team feels more intimate than anything we did at the dinner table last night. He's going to see the version of me that runs boardrooms. The polished professional who never shows weakness—the mask I've worn for years.
I pull up the video conference link and check my appearance in the camera preview. Flawless. Controlled. Every hair in place.
At exactly nine o'clock, I join the meeting.
My executive team fills the grid. CFO Whittaker "Whit" Caldwell, COO Patricia Moreau, CTO Mateo Santos, and Head of Exploration Sally Bene. Behind them, the department heads populate the remaining squares. And there, in the corner, is Uncle Armand.
"Good morning, everyone." I keep my voice crisp, authoritative. CEO voice. "Thank you for adjusting to the remote format this week. Let's jump right into the agenda. Whit, walk us through Q2 projections."
Whit launches into the financial overview. Revenue tracking ahead of forecast, operational costs within budget, capital expenditures on schedule. The numbers flow past me as I watch the team's body language. Patricia's taking notes. Mateo is distracted, probably mentally drafting solutions to whatevertechnical problem is currently consuming his attention. Sally's watching me with slightly narrowed eyes.
Armand's expression is unreadable.
"Questions on the financial overview?" I scan the grid when Whit finishes.
