Chapter 33
The news over the next three days intensified, but Arianne didn’t expect that they were specifically questioning Franz’s competency and legitimacy as Rochefort’s successor after his brother.
Franz was never raised as a spare to Alex. He was allowed to pursue the path without pressure because of the agreement Alex made with their father.
Arianne kept an eye on the news about the Rochefort Group. This method of pressuring a company wasn’t unusual, but she knew who would go to this extent to harm the Rocheforts.
She closed her eyes and leaned on her seat.
She could ask Gilbert for details, but she doubted he would willingly disclose them. He would have told her already if he were willing.
If Dominic was involved in the sudden media exposure Rochefort Group was receiving, it meant he’d seen Alex as an enemy he needed to obliterate, even after death.
When she opened her eyes, she saw a red notification in her messaging app. It was a message from Lucas informing her that the investors had requested a meeting. They already expected something like this to happen.
Arianne approved her participation. Until Franz was ready, she would have to stand in for him temporarily. A moment later, Lucas sent the documents she needed to review before their meeting.
The next day, the conference room felt way more suffocating than it had during the last meeting. The board members might accept the temporary silence and Franz’s leadership, but it wouldn’t be enough to convince them.
“How long will this continue?” One of the investors asked. “Are you certain that Franz would be able to close the merger p>
Arianne noted the question.
“We’ve already coordinated with the other party. There shouldn’t be any problem with the final phase of the merger.” Lucas replied, while Arianne remained silent.
The investor did not look convinced.
He leaned back slightly, fingers interlaced as he regarded Lucas and Arianne.
“That’s not what I asked,” he said. “I asked how long p>
Lucas inhaled before adjusting his glasses out of habit.
“The chairman’s condition is being monitored. Any timeline would be speculative p>
“Speculation is what the market and media are already doing,” another investor said from the other end of the table. “We’re here because the prolonged silence has started to cost us. You don’t expect us to stay silent throughout this, do you p>
Arianne remained still.
The investors’ gaze shifted towards her.
“And yet,” he said, “you’re here p>
Lucas answered before Arianne could. “Ms. Summers is here in an advisory capacity, as previously defined p>
“Defined internally,” the investor replied. “Externally, it reads differently p>
Arianne lifted her gaze and then looked at him, not to challenge but to acknowledge the statement.
“What does it read as?” she asked.
The investor stared at her for a moment and hesitated. Not because he was unprepared, but because saying it outloud would make it real.
“Stability,” he said after a moment of silence. “Or the appearance of it p>
Arianne nodded.
“Appearance doesn’t hold. Structures do p>
A woman seated beside the investor spoke up.
“With respect, Ms. Summers, the structure right now depends on an acting authority the public doesn’t trust p>
Arianne did not refute that. Instead, she turned to Lucas.
“Has Orion Logistics issued any formal notice?” she asked.
“No,” Lucas said immediately. “They’ve requested reassurance. No amendments p>
“And have we breached any clauses p>
“No p>
Arianne glanced back at the investors.
“Then nothing has failed yet,” she said.
The first investor frowned. “You’re suggesting we wait and do nothing p>
“I’m suggesting,” Arianne said calmly, “that if you react too quickly, it will only show the instability you’re worried about p>
“And if we don’t react?” another asked.
Arianne didn’t answer at once.
Lucas watched her.
Finally, she said, “Then we buy time p>
“How?” the investor pressed.
Arianne folded her hands on the table.
“By making it clear,” she answered, “That there is no loss p>
“We can issue a clarification,” Lucas suggested.
The investor hummed, his eyes fixed on Lucas. “And Franz Rochefort p>
Arianne answered this time.
“Franz remains where he is,” she said. “Visible. Logged. Unexpanded p>
The phrasing was deliberate.
Someone at the far end of the table frowned. “That may not satisfy p>
“It doesn’t need to,” Arianne said. “It needs to hold p>
The room quieted again. No one challenged her.
Not because they agreed—but because, for the moment, there was nothing procedural to push against.
Lucas began noting points. Dates. Language. Limits.
Arianne leaned back slightly, withdrawing from the center of the table.
She had said what was necessary.
No more.
And still, the question remained—unanswered, waiting, accumulating pressure in the spaces no one was ready to name yet.
Lucas glanced at Arianne and remained silent.
A few quiet breaths passed around the table. Someone reached for their water glass and took a single sip before setting it down, untouched.
Arianne straightened slightly, enough to signal re-entry into the exchange.
“You’re asking for certainty,” she said, her tone level. “But certainty isn’t something the board can assure or provide right now. It’s something the system either confirms—or doesn’t p>
“And what if it doesn’t?” the woman beside the investor asked.
Arianne met her gaze. “Then the consequences won’t be abstract anymore p>
That answer did not reassure them. But it was honest.
Lucas glanced down at the documents he had prepared earlier and slid one of them forward, turning it so the heading faced the investors.
“This is the current exposure summary,” he said. “As of this morning p>
Several of them leaned in. Not eagerly—carefully.
Arianne watched without comment as they scanned the page. Their eyes moved differently from the board’s had the day before. Investors read for exit points first. Governance came later.
One of them tapped the page with a finger. “These projections assume no further escalation p>
Another investor exhaled quietly. “The media doesn’t care about legal distinctions p>
“They care about narratives,” Arianne said. “Which is why we’re not feeding them one p>
Lucas took the opportunity to continue.
“We’re preparing a clarification,” he said. “Limited scope. No speculation. No future commitments p>
“And signed by whom?” someone asked.
Lucas did not hesitate. “By the board. With Franz named as acting authority, as already recorded p>
“And Ms. Summers?” the investor asked, glancing sideways at her.
“She is not being named,” Lucas replied.
“That won’t go unnoticed,” the investor said.
“No,” Arianne agreed. “It won’t p>
Another pause followed. This one felt heavier—not because of tension, but because of calculation.
One of the investors flipped the document closed.
“Let’s assume this holds for now. What happens if the chairman’s condition doesn’t improve p>
Lucas answered before Arianne could. “That would require a separate discussion p>
“When p>
“When it becomes necessary p>
“And who decides that p>
“The board,” Lucas said. “Of course, in consultation with legal p>
The investor gave Arianne a side glance. “And you p>
“I don’t decide anything that hasn’t been formally assigned to me,” Arianne answered calmly.
“That’s convenient,” someone muttered.
Arianne did not respond. She didn’t need to.
“If there are no further questions on immediate exposure, we’ll proceed with the clarification as outlined,” Lucas commented.
They did not argue that point.
The meeting ended without a vote. Without agreement or resolution.
Arianne remained seated until the room had nearly emptied.
Lucas stayed as well.
When only the two of them remained, he gathered the remaining documents and stacked them neatly.
Lucas left first.
Arianne remained where she was. She stood slowly, gathering the papers in front of her into a single stack. None of them contained new information.
She slid the documents into her folder and moved toward the door.
Outside, the corridor was quieter than she expected. No reporters. No staff hovering. Just the low hum of the building’s ventilation and the distant sound of footsteps moving elsewhere.
Her phone vibrated again.
This time, she glanced at the screen.
Three missed calls. Two messages. All from different numbers, all unfamiliar. She did not open any of them.
She pressed the elevator button and waited.
The doors took longer than usual to open. When they did, she stepped inside alone. The mirrored walls reflected her posture at her—composed, neutral, unhurried.
Nothing about her suggested urgency.
The elevator descended.
Arianne paused near the entrance, her hand resting briefly against the strap of her bag. For a moment, she considered checking her phone again. She decided against it.
Requests and messages would come to her whether she invited them or not.
She stepped forward and crossed into the street, already aware that what had been contained today would resurface soon, reframed, and more difficult to ignore.
The waiting had begun.
And this time, it was being measured.