Nichole,who was scared at the strange acts of her boss,Martino had gone to the reception stand to see Helena.
" Helena, there's big trouble.I think he knows that someone,I mean that you helped me out.Well,not that I'm sure,but his reactions said so."
Helena,who was just staring at her with her two palms on her jaw had smiled at her and said,
"don't worry,I already handled that.I mean I told the chief security staff in charge of the CCTV room to delete the footage from that time that showed my presence in your office and of course,he already did that."
"And you're sure about that?"
"Of course, buddy.C'mon.I saw him do it right before me. He's a professional,you know and I would bet you to it that he does nothing but clean jobs.Even if Martino Brown decides to trace the already deleted videos,he won't be able to find anything.Just cheer up girl.Mhn?"
Helena had patted her gently.
"I just hope so."
Nichole had replied while sinking into her chair, finally allowed herself to breathe.Now, Helena's curiosity concerning how the report on the documents she submitted arose.
"So?" She whispered.
"How did it go?"
Nichole smiled faintly.
"He was... surprised."
"Andddd?"
"And suspicious,like I said earlier."
Helena groaned softly.
"I knew it.The man can't just be impressed like a normal human being would."
Nichole chuckled quietly.
"It's fine.Let him think what he wants.The reports were perfect;even he knows that."
Helena had smirked at that.Martino,on the other side,had reached out for his phone and called the chief security staff in charge of the CCTV footage.
"Get me the CCTV footage from last night.I want to review office activities between eight p.m. and midnight."
"Yes Sir." Few moments later,the chief staff in charge of the CCTV footage room had walked in.
"These are the CCTV footages from yesterday,Sir."
The man had said. Martino had taken a quick look at the videos.Something seemed strange.He could only see person in the videos and it can be no other than Miss Lockwood.The video was dark though so,it was only the light of the laptop reflecting on her face.
"You may have it." The chief staff had collected the phone from him.
"But,is this really all?" He asked, still in suspense.
"Yes Sir." The man had responded.
"You may take your leave then." Martino said to him.At this point,his suspicions were cleared.He was still baffled by her efforts.
***********
The boardroom was unusually quiet that morning.
Rows of executives sat around the long glass table, their pens poised above notepads, their expressions tense. The massive chandelier above glittered like a thousand accusing eyes. Nichole sat among them, her heartbeat quick and shallow, the faint hum of the projector the only thing she could focus on to stay grounded.
Martino Brown stood at the head of the table, tall and unyielding as ever. He was dressed sharply in a navy-blue suit, his presence commanding every inch of the room. His cold gaze swept across his staff like a blade, daring anyone to breathe too loudly.
"Good morning," he began, his tone clipped and formal. "We'll begin with the departmental performance reviews and quarterly projections."
One by one, team leaders presented their reports. Charts flickered on the screen. Numbers were discussed. Applause was minimal. Everyone was careful, cautious — because one wrong word, one slight misstep, could earn the CEO's wrath.
Nichole sat silently, her file neatly stacked in front of her. She wasn't supposed to speak during this meeting, not unless spoken to. She'd done her part, finishing the reports he had demanded. Yet something in her chest felt uneasy. The way Martino kept glancing in her direction… it wasn't casual. It was deliberate.
Then, halfway through the presentation, he said it.
"Miss Lockwood."
Every head turned. The sound of her name echoed through the wide room.
Nichole blinked, caught off guard. "Sir?"
Martino's expression was unreadable. "Would you mind standing?"
Her chair scraped softly against the floor as she rose. "Yes, sir."
He clasped his hands behind his back, pacing slowly. "You handled the report on our regional revenue analysis, did you not?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Then perhaps you can explain," he said, picking up one of the printed pages from the table, "why there's a discrepancy between the figures here and the updated database numbers."
A low murmur rippled through the room. Nichole felt her pulse spike.
"I— I double-checked those figures last night," she stammered. "They matched the accounting department's—"
Martino cut her off, his tone sharp. "So, you're saying our accounting department is incompetent?"
"No, sir, that's not what I meant—"
"Then perhaps," he said, his voice rising slightly, "you simply weren't thorough enough."
Silence. The kind that made her throat dry.
Nichole's heart thudded painfully. She knew this wasn't about numbers. The supposed 'discrepancy' was barely a rounding error — something any analyst could overlook. Yet Martino's words were slicing through her dignity in front of everyone.
Her eyes darted around the table. Some colleagues looked down at their notes; others pretended to be busy adjusting their laptops.
"Sir," Nichole said quietly, trying to steady her voice, "if you'll allow me, I can re-verify those figures after the meeting—"
Martino scoffed, interrupting again. "After the meeting? Miss Lockwood, when I request a report, I expect accuracy the first time. Not corrections afterward."
She swallowed hard, her face burning. "I understand, sir."
"Do you?" His tone was biting, cruel in its calmness. "Because this isn't the first time you've needed 'understanding.' Last week, it was a delayed file submission. Yesterday, it was a formatting error. And now this?"
The words hit like slaps.
Nichole could feel the sting of humiliation crawl up her neck. Each accusation chipped away at her composure. She wanted to speak, to defend herself — to remind him that she had spent sleepless nights fixing those very same documents, that the formatting error he mentioned had been caused by his last-minute changes.
But she didn't. She couldn't.
Her career — and her friends' — still hung by a thread.
Martino leaned slightly forward, his voice low but sharp enough for everyone to hear. "If you plan to survive in this company, Miss Lockwood,I suggest you learn that excuses are for the weak. Precision is for the strong."
Her chest constricted.
For a long, painful moment, the only sound in the room was the faint buzz of the air conditioner. No one dared to speak. Martino turned back toward the projector as if she were invisible again.
"Let's move on," he said curtly. "Next presentation."
Nichole sat down slowly, her fingers trembling beneath the table. She could feel every eye on her — pity, curiosity, judgment. Her
throat burned, but she refused to cry.
Not here. Not in front of him.
*****
Finally,the meeting has come to an end and Nichole had left for the restroom but not till everyone has gone.She had wept silently in the restroom but afterwards,she had wiped her tears while looking straight into the mirror there.
"You are way too strong for him.Don't let the motherfucker break you, okay?"
She had spoken confidently to herself.She had washed off those tears on her face and had dipped her wet face into the hander kerchief with her.