Roland grabbed his keys. I'll be back in 20 minutes. Don't touch the stove. Don't answer the door. Drink your coffee.
When the door clicked shut, the silence in the apartment was deafening. Viven Croft, the woman who dictated the flow of global capital, was alone in a queen's walkup, being told not to touch the stove. She looked down at her wrinkled silk blouse. Then she walked into Roland's bedroom. It was sparse.
A bed, a dresser, a small nightstand with a stack of paperback thrillers. She opened a drawer, found a clean, oversized gray hoodie, and pulled it over her head. It smelled like fabric softener and cheap cedar wood. It was the most comfortable thing she had worn in a decade. When Roland returned, he found Viven sitting on the living room floor, her laptop, the only other thing she had packed in her suitcase, open on the coffee table.
Spreadsheets and legal documents were reflected in the dark bags under her eyes. "I can bypass the primary firm," she muttered as Roland walked in. "I know a boutique litigation guy in Brooklyn. He hates Richard. If I can promise him a seat on the board, "Stop," Roland said.
He walked over, gently closed the lid of her laptop, and sat in the armchair across from her. "What are you doing? " she snapped. "I'm stopping you from bleeding to death," Roland said. "You're fighting a war on Richard's terms. You're playing his game.
He has the board. He has the money. He has the leverage. You run at him now. You're just a desperate ousted CEO looking for a handout.
So, what do I do? Roll over? No. Roland leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. You do what you do best.
You let them fail. Viven frowned. Explain the Japanese merger. Roland said, "Synthics, Richard championed the takeover to oust you, but Richard doesn't know the first thing about Keyoto's manufacturing infrastructure. He's a numbers guy.
He doesn't know the culture. He doesn't know the negotiators. Without you and without me, that deal is going to stall. " The second Kyoto pulls out, Croft Holding stock takes a 10% hit. The board will panic. They wanted stability.
Richard promised them stability. You give them a week of Richard's leadership and they'll be begging you to come back. Viven stared at him. Her mind, engineered for strategy, rapidly calculated the probabilities. Kyoto was notoriously difficult.
Richard had zero patience for cultural pleasantries. He would try to force the deal. Kyoto would walk. They'll lose millions, she whispered. And you'll buy back the loyalty of the board when you swoop in to save it, Roland said.
But you have to let it burn first. You have to wait. I don't know how to wait. I act. I know.