Say Less I Love You Episode 10

Chapter 103
JACOB

"This shit belongs to me now."

Nyla's words drop like a bomb, the entire boardroom descends into chaos. Voices overlap, creating a cacophony of outrage and disbelief that makes my temples throb. I need a moment to process this myself, but showing weakness isn't an option.

"Ladies and gentlemen." My voice cuts through the noise. No one listens. 

I slam my palm against the mahogany table. "Enough!"

The room falls silent, all eyes turning to me. Harold Blackwood, our oldest board member, tugs at his collar, his face flushed red. "This is preposterous, Jacob. She can't possibly—"

"We will reconvene in forty-eight hours," I say, straightening my tie. "I will consult with legal in the meantime."

"But—" Margaret Chen starts.

"Two days. That's final." I gather my papers, maintaining the steady composure expected of a Stone. Inside, my stomach churns. "This meeting is adjourned."

"Your father would never have let this happen," Mr. Harper  mutters as he passes.

I tighten my teeth together, remaining silent while the board members exit one by one. Glancing upward, I catch Nyla grinning at their retreating forms. "As stated before, we'll see you in forty-eight hours, Ms. Thomas," I say as she shoots me a fiery look, but I'm already stepping through the doorway before she has a chance to respond.

My footsteps echo down the corridor as I make my way to my office. The leather of my shoes squeaks against the polished floor, matching the pounding in my temples. I barely have time to pour myself a scotch before they start filing in.

"This is unprecedented," William says, closing the door behind him. He's followed by Trixa and Hilda, both wearing expressions that could curdle milk.

"She played us," Hilda says, pacing near the window. "That little witch played us all."

"Language, Mother." I take a sip of scotch, letting the burn steady my nerves. "Though I can't say I disagree with the sentiment."

Trixa perches on the edge of my desk. "How did we miss this? The formula was right under our noses the whole time."

"Because we were too busy watching her fail," William says, his voice carrying that edge of disappointment I know so well. "We underestimated her."

"The question is," I set my glass down, "what do we do now?"

"We fight," Hilda snaps. "We tie this up in litigation for years."

"And risk losing everything?" Trixa shakes her head. "We need that formula."

William’'s shoes creak against the floor as he approaches my desk. "Son, this could destroy everything we've built."

"I'm aware." I lean back in my chair, studying the amber liquid in my glass. "But maybe there's another way."

"What are you thinking?" Trixa asks, her eyes narrowing.

"I'm thinking we need to be smart about this. Fighting Nyla head-on isn't going to work. She's proven that."

Trixa's fingers drum against my desk. "What if this is just about her grandfather? We could offer better care, maybe—"

"It's not." I shake my head, remembering the steel in Nyla's eyes. "This is about more than that."

"Jacob's right," William says, settling into one of the leather chairs. His normally pristine suit is wrinkled from the long board meeting. "She's shown more determination than half our executive team combined."

"As much as it pains me to agree with you, Jacob," Hilda crosses her arms, her perfectly manicured nails digging into her sleeves, "she does have the formula. Marcus's formula"

"That's what I don't understand," Trixa interjects, pushing off from my desk. "Marcus barely knew her. Why would he trust her with something this valuable? It must be a mistake, surely he meant to give it to me."

"Maybe he knew something we didn't." I tap my fingers against the desk, pieces clicking into place. "Or maybe..."

"What?" Hilda turns from the window.

"Maybe it wasn't about trust at all." The scotch in my glass catches the light as I lift it. "Maybe it was about something else entirely."

Trixa shakes her head. "Like what?"

"That's what we need to find out." I down the rest of my drink. "Because Marcus Swan never did anything without a reason."

 Trixa's face goes pale. "So everything she's claiming..."

"Is probably true,"William finishes. He looks at me, his expression grave. "We need to take this seriously, son. Very seriously."

The scotch suddenly tastes bitter in my mouth. I push it away, my mind racing through possibilities, each worse than the last.

"Let's not forget what we've put her through," Hilda says, her long fingers coming to rest in her lap. "The girl's been cleaning our toilets, serving our drinks, watching us live the high life while she struggled to make ends meet."

My stomach twists. I've seen the darkness in Nyla's eyes lately, the way she carries herself like she's ready for war. "A position you put her in," I say with clenched teeth.

"She's not just angry," Hilda continues. "She's wounded. And wounded animals are the most dangerous."

"What exactly are you suggesting?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"We need to neutralize the threat." Hilda turns from the window. "Before she decides to burn everything to the ground."

"She wouldn't—" Trixa starts.

"Wouldn't she?" WIlliam cuts in. "Think about it. We've humiliated her, degraded her."

"And now she has the keys to the kingdom," Hilda says. "Both literally and figuratively."

"So what's the play?" I lean forward, my elbows on the desk.

"We need to contain her," Hilda says. "Find her weakness. Everyone has one."

"She's not some hostile takeover we need to crush," I protest.

"No." Hilda's lips curve into a cold smile. "She's much more dangerous than that. She knows our secrets, our vulnerabilities. And now she has the power to use them."

"There has to be another way," Trixa says softly.

"There isn't." Hilda's heels click against the floor as she approaches my desk. "We either control this situation, or we watch everything we've built crumble."

The weight of their expectations settles on my shoulders. I know what they want – what they need – me to do. But the thought of moving against Nyla makes my chest tight.

"Jacob," William says, his voice carrying that note of authority I've never been able to resist. "We need to act. Now."

Suddenly, the door swings open without a knock. Nyla strides in, her chin tilts up, dark eyes sweeping across the room with the confidence of someone who knows they hold all the cards. My breath catches – she's no longer just a nurse, and she certainly isn't a maid.  She's beautiful. And terrifying.

"Don't stop plotting on my account."  She folds her arms and rest on the door frame like she doesn't have a care in the world.

Hilda's fingers clench on her armrest. "This is a private meeting."

"Is it?" Nyla's smile doesn't reach her eyes. "Funny, I thought as majority stakeholder I had access to all meetings regarding company business."

William shifts in his chair. "Nyla, perhaps we could schedule—"

"No." She pulls out her phone, tapping the screen. "My schedule's quite full these days. Now works best for me."

The air crackles with tension. I can't take my eyes off her – the subtle arch of her eyebrow, the determined set of her jaw. She's magnificent in her fury, and it kills me that we're on opposite sides of this war.