Chapter 8 - The Boardroom
The executive boardroom on the fiftieth floor of Sokolov Enterprises was a fortress of glass, steel, and absolute authority. The walls were lined with dark mahogany panels, and a massive conference table made of smoked obsidian stretched down the center of the room.
When Sarah pushed open the heavy glass doors, the dozen senior executives and regional directors seated around the table immediately fell silent. Every eye turned toward her.
A year ago, these men would have looked right through her, treating her as part of the architecture, someone to clear away coffee cups and dust the leather chairs. Today, they stood up in unison.
At the head of the table sat Roman Sokolov. He wore a crisp charcoal suit, his silver-threaded hair neat, his face carved from cold granite. He didn't smile, but as Sarah walked toward the empty chair to his immediate right, he gave a slight, approving nod.
"Sit," Roman commanded softly.
Sarah took her seat, placing her leather folio on the table. The obsidian surface reflected the towering skyscrapers outside.
"Before we discuss logistics," Roman began, his baritone voice echoing through the silent room, "we address the security failure of last night. A multi-million-dollar operation was nearly compromised because arrogance blinded my inner circle to the people working in the shadows."
He paused, letting his gaze sweep across the pale, nervous faces of his directors.
"From this moment forward, the old hierarchy is dismantled," Roman continued, turning his head slightly toward Sarah. "Director Sarah Vance will oversee all internal operations, asset vetting, and estate security protocols. Any movement of personnel, any delivery, any exception to the rules must pass through her desk. If she says a door is locked, it is locked. Is that understood?"
A chorus of immediate, submissive agreements echoed around the table.
"Yes, Mr. Sokolov." "Understood, Director Vance."
Sarah didn't flinch. She opened her folio, pulled out a stack of preliminary security audits she had drafted during her sleepless hours before dawn, and slid them across the obsidian table toward the head of logistics.
"Your current supply chain vetting process takes forty-eight hours," Sarah said calmly, her voice carrying an effortless authority that commanded the room's total attention. "That is unacceptable. Effective immediately, we are cutting it to twelve hours, with dual-authentication sign-offs on all sensitive deliveries. I’ve outlined the changes in Section Four of the packet."
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The head of logistics swallowed hard, flipped open the folder, and began reading furiously.
Roman watched her with a quiet, impenetrable gaze. For the first time in his ruthless career, the formidable crime lord realized he hadn't just hired an employee—he had appointed a general.
