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.
Roland said, that's why you need a babysitter. And lucky for you, my schedule just opened up. The next 48 hours were an exercise in brutal restraint. Viven didn't leave the apartment. She wore Roland's clothes.
She ate Roland's cheap food. She watched the Bloomberg ticker on his television like a hawk watching a field mouse. Slowly, the rhythm of the tiny apartment began to seep into her bones. She watched Roland make Khloe's lunches. She watched them do math homework at the kitchen table.
She witnessed a kind of quiet, sturdy love that she had entirely forgotten existed. Her own father had treated her like a mutual fund, an investment that was expected to mature and yield high returns. She had never been allowed to just exist. On Thursday evening, the three of them sat on the floor around the coffee table eating cartons of takeout lain. Khloe was showing Vivien how to use chopsticks correctly.