The next morning, the boardroom at `Hawthorne Industries` was a tomb. The air was thick with hostility. Caspian stood beside his grandmother at the head of the long, polished table, facing a jury of stony-faced board members.
The lead director, a man named Sterling, did not mince words.
“This is a catastrophe, Caspian,” he said, his voice like chipping ice. “The stock has plummeted. Our brand partners are invoking morality clauses. You used corporate resources for a personal vendetta that has exploded in our faces.”
Another board member chimed in. “It’s gross negligence. You allowed this company, your family’s legacy, to become collateral damage in a tawdry public spectacle.”
They weren’t wrong. He had been blind, arrogant, and reckless. He had dragged the Hawthorne name through the mud, all for a lie he had desperately wanted to believe.
Before Caspian could speak, Eleanora placed a calm hand on his arm. She slid a set of slim, leather-bound folios onto the table.
“Mr. Sterling, gentlemen,” she began, her voice cutting through the tension. “We have prepared a response.”
She opened her folio. “First, the official corporate statement, which was released last night. It unequivocally condemns fraud and severs all ties with `The Finch Foundation`. Second, a proposal to fund a fifty-million-dollar grant for legitimate oncological research, to be paid in full from Caspian’s personal trust. And third,” she paused, her gaze sweeping the room, “a formal motion for Caspian to take an indefinite and immediate leave of absence from his role as CEO.”
A stunned silence fell over the room. They had expected a fight, a defense, a litany of excuses.
Caspian looked at his grandmother, then at the hostile faces staring back at him. There was nothing to defend. He straightened his shoulders, the movement heavy with the weight of his failure.
“Everything you’ve said is correct,” he said, his voice quiet but clear. “I failed this company and compromised its integrity. I abused my position and my name.”
He met Sterling’s gaze directly.
“I accept the board’s motion.”
The lack of pride, the absence of his usual arrogance, was more shocking to them than any outburst would have been. It was the first, bitter taste of his penance. And he accepted it without resistance.
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